E
by Angevelinka
Summary: A few thoughts and a few views on the possible life of Yondaime Kazekage. May contain GaaNaru or NaruGaa, for sure contains shonen ai between Fourth Kazekage and Fourth Hokage  Namikaze Minato . Every chapter is a stand-alone, various sizes.
1. Eternity

There's a lot of things that can be said, done and thought. And there are a lot of things that can be forbidden, forgotten and hidden away. There are also things that not everyone can get. Especially the rituals. Sabaku no Daichi had been to every village in his whole life. He saw how people prayed to images, how they worshipped animals and how they feared of different. He saw girls wearing special color to their weddings and special jewelry to their divorces just to bring luck or get away from the bad demons. He saw many of them and he hadn't believed in any. It's not because he was a heretic. He just had his own beliefs.

Suna was no different from others. In the rituals of Suna, he was the son of the Sun, descendant of gods, the closest to the sky that was merciless and cruel – and thus, made him merciless and cruel to match his deities. Every year there were prays and matches for the one and only river in the village to come out of the banks and flood the dry sands. It was a mercy. It was also a show he had a heart. 'Do you wish to say something, Kazekage-sama?' 'No.' he mutters as one of his soldiers gives him wooden scepter and material crown. The crowd cheers for him and his golden clothes, his henna make up, his beautiful godly profile. He looks at them, brown skin, dark hair and all he sees is vultures.

And it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because the river did not come out of the banks this year, nor a year before, not three, five, twelve years ago. He looks down at his children, his two sons and a daughter who do not love him and who fear him only because he is higher than them, but not stronger. It also doesn't matter. He looks out into the sky and even if it's endless, it's closed for his eyes. Only blue. And it's his fault.

It's because of him, because he doesn't care, it's because of him because he doesn't tell the river to flood, because he don't tell the sun to go down. It's because of his suffering people suffer, because he is merciless and cruel. Because he was a god, and one day he met a human. It was blonde, blue-eyed and sweet with laughter so sweet it's unforgettable. He saw the boy long time ago, on his journey over the world, somewhere, somewhen from his heavenly throne up above. They do not know each other and they never did, their eyes never met and their words never sounded in the empty room. He is a god and then he Is a human and humans see only other humans. Blue-eyed boy laughs only for the sweet strawberry girl from far away.

And that's enough for him to let go of the sky, the earth and the river, his life dull, small, meaningless. He yearns for human and it's a never-ending story. He yearns for mortal to become immortal and it's a never-ending wish. But he is a god, and his wishes do come true. Only some gods are not worshipped, that's why the rise and the fall of the blonde god is quick and he never has a chance to blink. Even gods die sometime. Or maybe because some gods were never gods to begin with. And when he sees the bodies, massacred, hidden in coffins and buried in earth, he hangs his head low, giving up, forgiving, forgetting. Mortals can't become gods. Mortals don't live forever. And then, he doesn't live for anything anymore.

The days pass, the crowd gets smaller and smaller, nobody loves him strong enough as he doesn't love people back, making the earth dry from yearning, the sky empty from pain and air hot from jealousy for gods that were more powerful. And when the last one of his worshippers die, he steps out of his throne and looks at the crowd of vulture. His history ends here, a long time after he lost his ideas, even longer after he lost his powers. His story ends here, in the wooden coffin where he wears his golden clothes and wooden scepter. His history ends here, an immortal sacrifice for mortals who have enough of his legend. And as the fire licks at his feet and as the crowd chooses another god for their ruler, he vanishes, along with the rain, the memory, the being.

And when he opens his eyes and hears the laughter again, for the first time in years he smiles. Finally, he reaches his eternity.


	2. Esurience

Esurience. A foreign, fat word that rolls over the tongue like a big beetle, lazy and always on his way. It's black, but it shines like a mirror on the desert sun, and you can never, ever see your face in such glass. Esurience – the word that only reflects itself in the eyes of the holder. The Fourth is esurient.

And it's always, always the thing he can't take with himself. It begins with the fist of the rain that falls right on his face during the rare storm over the desert, which he licks off, greedy and shameless, not minding that people are dancing naked on the streets, not minding that it's only a vapor that will vanish in the moment it will pass. It's the feeling of the kunai being held in mouth as he dances in twirls, ripping the throats of the opponents, feeling the blood running down his clothes, neck and legs. It's a touch of the money when he strips out of the clothes and lays on the bed naked, counting what he gained, lost and stole from his people, the sound of papers falling over his body when he lets go of them.

He craves the moments he can't remember, because they pass too quickly, he hungers for feelings he can never remember how they felt like when he is done with them. His mirror doesn't reflect himself, but that's all right. He doesn't care for seeing his hunger. Everyone knows it. He doesn't try to hide it.

And then his time comes and he gets caught starring at himself in all his glory. And it's strange, it's different and he doesn't want to stop. That's why when he notices that he likes when a drop of water rolls off the skin it's not his own skin he likes or when he likes the way soup wets the lips it's not his own lips he feels. The Fourth is esurient, but for once is someone else's hunger. He loves something that reflects his position in words, in memories, in thoughts. He loves the love for himself that's in someone else's mind. He loves to see his yearning for himself through the reflecting eyes.

And it's beautiful. Because now he doesn't like rain falling on his face anymore – he loves the rain falling on the other man's face and he likes licking it off his lips. Now it's not the kunai cutting the throats of opponents that sates him, but the blood of his lover's opponents that gives him joy and it's only when he can count the dots on his lover's body he is satisfied and full. His hunger gets satisfied but his greed doesn't. That's why he slowly blends in, his lungs growing in, his legs entwining with and their eyes reflecting each other, until he is nothing else but a hunger in the other's eyes and he can't exist alone anymore.

And then, he owns the world. 'I could eat you.' He whispers to the man when he is deep, deep asleep and he smiles, because it's a nice statement 'But I'm already full.' And when the blonde smiles back, he knows it's a lie.


	3. rEvilement

It's only three a.m. in the night, but not everyone in the house is asleep. In this house, there's always one person awake, because of the ancient curse. But this time, there's two.

He senses the other and doesn't do anything about that. It's only ten minutes later when Gaara simply skips around the roof, counting the stars, when he notices his father standing on the balcony. He is calm and looks like usual, but the redhead smells the blood. As it comes, on the closer inspection, all fingers in one of his hands are broken. So it was either an impossibly hard material or a blow that knocked out the brain out of the skull.

He was sure that it had to bruise. Daichi notices Gaara but does nothing of that. In his room there's another person, the one who took the blow and who gave it. He feels his eye stinging. It would surely give him a bruise tomorrow.

Gaara watches them for a moment, then slowly walks away. The red moon rises and stares at the ground, cold and useless as yet another murder takes place in the Hidden Village of Sand.


	4. BEauty

It was hot in there. Hot and tight and sweaty. His breaths came out in short, tamed huffs as he tried to act the most naturally and at the same time – the most elegantly as the man in his situation could. It was kind of hard when he had to also stand still and pretend that nothing was happening, when it obviously was. He wished he could just run away. His nose itched…

'Are you ready?' asked someone, pushing his hands away and giving him his own fan, as deadly as always. He wanted to say that he wasn't, but instead, he just nodded. He couldn't really do anything else as he would ruin everything by that. He glanced outside, already seeing Minato doing his own job and doing perfectly fine in it.

He couldn't be worse, right? If only his ribs didn't try to get to his stomach it would be quite fine… 'Then go!' he heard as he was pushed forward. He moved, regretting everything that was done so far and stepped outside as well. The room cheered with him. He smiled brightly at them, covering his masked face behind the fan as the calls elongated.

'Well, this is awkward.' He murmured as he rose the fold of his dress and bowed as nicely as he could 'The corset is killing me.'

Oh, he hated disguised missions.


	5. stainEd glass

If he thought really hard, he could tell himself the substance staining the glass shards was mud. If he squinted a bit and thought about the red mud, it made him feel a little less sick, a little less like sitting down and starting to laugh until his throat hurt. He wasn't so sure what to think of the bits sticking out of the person's skin, however, other than it didn't look like real skin or real glass. It looked like a muddied doll, a mannequin, maybe one of those CPR toys for newbie's to practice. Behind him, the redhead smoked a cigarette, more red (mud) stuck-sticking to his clothes and skin, to his whole person even to the cancer stick. He didn't think he had seen Daichi smoke since he had been in college, and that had been quite a while ago. Then again, he hadn't actually *seen* Daichi in that long, either. Or talked to him, for the matter. _Why did you call me?_ that hateful resentful voice asked, but he didn't trust his actual voice to actually emit such a question. Instead he stared back between the (mannequin) , the trail of (mud) going from picture A to picture B, and he supposed the phone was caked in (mud) too.

The hawkish, snakefish, predatorish eye looked at him through the dark glasses, covered and uncovered at the same time. The sun broke in them and flashed on the little pools of blood on the ground. Despite the horrifying scenery, the man smiled lightly and as if the blood on his black mittens was nothing, he reached out for his cigarette and with one snap sent the still burning cancer stick right under the blond's legs.

'Minato-kun!' he said with cheery, almost too cheery (cherry) voice, sounding pleasant, too pleasant as the green wool of his sweater flashed in the dark glasses. He seemed to be almost humored 'I knew you'd come. You were always such a good boy.' A kouhai, an underclassman, a servant. The redhead treated him in his own special ways, though to without his own special teachings here and there. He smiled.

'I murdered someone.' he said, and paused, like if he forgot about something. 'Again.' he smiled. 'Did you bring a shovel as I told you to?'

The blond nodded slowly, wanting to go back to staring at the CPR dummy and not at the man's eyes, but unable to shift his gaze anywhere. Why was he doing this now, when back then, back then he had been so nice, so terribly, heart wrenchingly nice? Minato had loved him. Maybe not like the other wanted, but he had loved him with all his heart. He had gone along things he really didn't want just because he loved him and because he couldn't say no- _You were always such a good boy._ He was. He had been. What right did he have to say this now? He hadn't come the first time. Or the second, or the third. No matter where he went, time would pass, and when he forgot about it, then the redhead would call, and tell him what he'd done- and Minato would hang up. He had- he had proven it- one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times, and he'd tell himself it was a joke, he'd tell himself Daichi was just messing with him, because one couldn't just murder someone and go along your life and disappear ad not call for two years, and then call back and say 'I did it again, come help me hide it', and Minato never asked why, he just hung up and locked himself in, and sometimes he moved, but Daichi always found his phone in the end.

He'd stayed where he was, and he'd hung up seven times in twelve years. Maybe he couldn't run away, but he could pretend it never happened at all. Only this time, when the man had told him 'come', he had. Like if he were again nineteen, like if he was back to let Daichi do all the thinking for him, like if the last twelve years hadn't passed and he hadn't really gotten away.

'You hate me.' he was a little glad about the lack of emotion in his voice. He wished he could be so sure about what his face was showing, but by now, he wasn't sure that mattered. He'd come, after all.

'Oh, what a cruel choice of words, baby.' said the redhead, tilting his head a bit and smiling at the blond with the same lazy content smile. 'You know I do this because I don't.'

Which was true, completely true. It's not like if he had grudge against those people he killed (gods no! He barely even knew any of them… before he decided to kill them after all (then it was another story) or that he liked killing at all (hiding evidence was so problematic, and of course, first few days were always sleepless, spent on wondering where the heck that blood could go and why could he feel it everywhere even if he burnt his clothes and sat in the shower for hours). He was not psycho also. He only did what he had to do. He knew that sooner or later it all would turn around and lead the blond back to him. Like from the thread to the clew.

'I killed my mother.' he said for the first time when he phoned to the blond. And it was enthralling and creepy and he needed help, by then he needed all of it. But Minato didn't come. So when he killed his father, he also let Minato know. Of course, the blond didn't believe him. Possibly because it was a wrong choice of words. His parents were dead long ago. But those people looked like them to him. He wasn't sure why. But they did. But when he said he killed his wife, he was not lying. He just stabbed through her and phoned to him, lying to her that he was actually calling the ambulance. And Minato didn't believe him again, which made him So **Terribly!** Disappointed. He wanted to prove himself to the blond. But Minato started running away (he wasn't sure why. They were friends, right? He said they were). So he chased. He didn't know the other guys. He didn't hold a grudge against them. He was not sick at all. He just didn't want them near blond. Because really… it felt so wrong to see them near him. Some said they weren't with him on such terms at all. But they were lying and he knew that and when they admitted it after so many long hours, he did what he had to do.

He knew his life was strange. Somehow. But it didn't matter. It was all because of the blond. For the blond. For Minato. Minato-kun.

'You're such a gem.' he muttered as he walked up to him, not noticing the height difference (there was any? No, he wore high heels. He did. From some time) as he grabbed him (gently) over the blond (not so blond now) locks and made him look right into his face, through the dark looking glass. 'Be not afraid. It's not you I'm going to bury tonight. You know?'

He wasn't sure if he wasn't lying.

'I don't know why you do this.' Minato said, his voice cut down in a wince when the other grabbed him by the hair and pushed him down. It didn't really hurt that much, but he didn't like the way the other held him, didn't want to look at him at all, and he tried to pull away, even when he knew it wasn't the right thing to do. When he had been a child, his sister had told him that dragons and trolls would hoard treasures, would sleep on piles of gold and diamonds and pearls, and he had thought it stupid (what could a dragon or a troll, what could a monster do with so much material worth when it meant nothing to them at all?). She had also told him such a monster would gladly kill anyone who so much dared as to try and take the treasure away. She had never told him what would happen if the treasure tried to escape on his own, and now it was too late. His sister had gone missing five years ago. He hadn't picked the phone, but he had left Kushina all the same. Not because he knew, no, just because, well- it was better, right? Just to be safe.

Daichi smiled, almost surprised, almost taken back by the spoken words. But the truth came to him like liquid black treacle and it calmed him all well. Minato was such a sweet wag when he wanted to be one. He rose the other hand and stroked the blond with the back side of the hand, slowly, noticing only a second later that he left a wide red smudge. He smiled and kissed it, holding the blond (just for) and adding a little peck on the lips (just because) and only then let him go. His lips tasted of onions, rice and fish, probably the dinner.

'I swear, you're too nice to be alive.' he muttered, then looked around, stopping at the sight of the blood soaked body. He smiled. 'I don't know why I just said that. Get the shovel, baby, let's hide the treasure.'

Whenever the redhead called him by anything other than his name, it made Minato's skin want to crawl away from his body, hide somewhere safe. He couldn't remember when had been the last time the other had actually used it instead of a should-be-affectionate-but-not-really-it's-just-a-tag (), today was the first time in… since… since forever. Since he had gotten away. Only he wasn't sure he had gotten away at all. He tried to pull away again when the older man leaned closer, blue eyes wide as he pushed back, the grip on his hair allowing him no room for movement. Daichi smelled like slaughterhouse, he smelled like if he'd drunk the bl- (the mud, MUD!) _You are just imagining things_. When he was released he stumbled back, gasping from breath a hand wiping at his lips like if something short of acid could make the sensation go away (It's in your mind!). Only he wasn't sure he had gotten away at all anymore. He looked at his car, just a few dozen meters away, wishing he could turn around and bolt. The car might as well be in another galaxy for all his chances of getting away. He followed.

The redhead didn't look back at him once. He didn't have to. The evening was clear and quiet apart from the chirping crickets, far away from the streets and people. At this time of the night, that was. In the morning someone will probably wonder about the dark puddles of dirt on the concrete, but by then he would be far away now. Maybe. Probably. He didn't know. He never planned when he didn't have to. He smiled and readjusted the dark glasses on his nose. They made him feel ominous. He heard Minato's steps very well. And they were also pretty. One, two, ten, twenty…

He stopped without any particular reason. He just drank up enough of sounds. Now he wanted to look.

'Here. Let's hide it here.' and then, he sat down on the closest stone that was at least a bit higher than the ground level and started searching for another cigarette. They were all black, like his clothes. The blue eyes went back to the redhead over and over, seemingly unable to both look away but also not to. If he looked at Daichi, he might scream, but if he didn't, he wouldn't know where he was and that would be too nice to be alive too scary. Too damn frightening. Twelve years without knowing where Daichi was, only that the redhead did know where he (Minato-kun) lived, what his phone was, who he was seeing- Daichi, who called him to tell him he had murdered someone, who drove everyone around him away (but never actually did anything to Minato, why?); who called to announce murders that might or not have happened yet never called more than once, even after he'd hung up- then called again, like weeks and months and years hadn't' passed, like if he knew some day he'd cave- (I killed someone again… where are you?) He helped him carry the body, not because he wanted to touch, it, but because the way the redhead carried it like if it weighted nothing frightened him. He cut himself on a stray piece of glass and belatedly hoped this dummy didn't carry any diseases, not that it was easy to think so, because… It didn't feel like skin. It was cold, and sort of rubbery, and it wasn't hard to think it was some creepy toy, a body stunt when movies wanted to get graphic.

It made sense to hide it, somewhat. Like when he had broken his sister's doll and he had wrapped her in a piece of fabric and thrown her on the dilapidated house about to be demolished… Because it was better to let her think she had lost it than letting her known it was his fault. They were in some deserted parking lot of an abandoned Wal-Mart, old gravel and concrete… and if one went a little further behind, packed, hard earth. It would take forever to manage to make enough of a dent, a pick would have been more useful. And no matter what they did, the earth would look disturbed, it would take years of rain and wind to even it out. Shitty hiding place, but he started working on it all the same, stopping every now and then to look at the way the redhead smoked. Cigarettes, not cigars. Daichi hated those, because his father smoked them. Black cigarettes, and he had never seen those before. He wondered if he'd made them himself.

And every time he did, the redhead smiled back at him, the sweetest treat in the candy factory. And it would be so nice if it wasn't so much out of place and situation. But it didn't matter to Daichi. He liked the fact that the blond noticed him. Out of his own free will. And that was pretty, precious, the prettiest and he so loved it, that he couldn't help but smile at the man. The way his muscles worked up in that green woolen sweater and the way his hands stained with dirt as he tried, tried very hard to get out the hard earth from where it belonged. He could do this twice as fast and twice as good but he chose to smoke. Now is his time to watch.

'He had a kid.' he blurted out suddenly, not really thinking about why or what for he was doing that, kept under the charm of the presence of the man 'One kid. He had a lover. You knew that? You look so nice from that angle.' he took a drag of his cigarette and huffed it out, not moving an eyelid as the smoke got into his view. 'She thought I'm taking him on the beer. I have it.'

The blond visibly twitched at the _A kid?_ He had one of his own. After he'd ran away from Kushina, she had tried to contact him. She was pregnant. Minato had hung up, grabbed all the money he had, leaving all the things that didn't fit in his hands and had ran away as far as he could. Just in case. Just to be sure. No one had told him anything, so he assumed he had done the right thing, but sometimes he wondered. No one talked to him anymore, after all. Why had the redhead striven to make such a disappointment out of him? He knew how hard Minato had striven to please everyone around him, how he'd fought for every friendship and how much they meant to him. Why these strangers, these people he had never met? Why did he call him each time, what was he trying to prove? He turned towards the older man, blue eyes boring into the black shades, knowing what was beneath. Black eyes, not dark brown, dark blue, dark anything, just black. One of the rarest shades of iris in the world, and he wondered- just one- what it was like to see through them. The first hit was sudden, but not particularly hard. The length of the handle helped give it momentum, though and it hit the redhead on the side of the face, metal plate making a weird, fleshy sound against the man's skin, and toppling him over. It tossed the redhead on his side on the lacked earth, dirt sticking to the mud stains that weren't really mud at all and to the small slash he'd made on his cheekbone. He raised the shovel and brought it down, harder than before and smashing the glasses on one lens in the process. Now Daichi and the dummy would match. The trail of smoke broke him back to the cigarette, and he picked it up, staring at the half consumed cylinder before sticking it on his own mouth.

'I did care for you, wasn't that enough?' his voice broke around the cigarette, his teeth tightening around it. It didn't taste like anything he'd tried before, and for a moment he wondered what exactly was inside the dark paper. Maybe weed, maybe something else. It didn't have a filter, and what felt like bits of bitter ash coated the insides of his mouth when he bit too hard. 'You are so fucked up. Why me?' turning around, he went back to the barely scratched earth and started digging again.

The man didn't say anything to that. Instead, he just lied on the ground as he was hit, one of his eyes closed and the other one staring just right up in the sky. Through the net of broken black glass he saw not one waning moon, but ten, twenty, thousand of many pieces of moon. His lips twitched lightly. The side of his head hurt. Oh. _Minato._ How could he be so rude, so brute toward him just now when he enjoyed the silence of their togetherness? Just like a spoiled kid, really. He felt something warm and sticky running across his cheek. He didn't even try to see what it was. It didn't really matter. When he got up, all moons got up with him and crossed his vision in right eye with thousands of dimensions. And when he looked down, so many more of Minato's showed up in front of him. It looked nice. _It looked nice._ He cracked his head to the side, smearing the blood on his cheek with his fingers accidentally. He smiled, insecure.

Something suddenly went wrong. He felt it. He felt it in the way his head hurt, the way his one eye didn't really want to close properly and how blood started trickling down is nose. It wasn't really right. He wasn't sure what went wrong. But somehow it didn't seem like if it mattered much now. He decided to wait. Wait and see what would happen next. He sat down on the stone again and without a word started another cigarette. For such behavior Minato surely was not getting that beer he saved for them alone.

Minato worked. For a while there was nothing, except the sound of his own uneven breath and the taste of spoilt ashes as he for all means stabbed at the earth, breaking bits and pieces of its shell. It broke in uneven, shallow chunks that were absolutely no good and he almost, almost hated them as much as the reason he was there. It took a while for him to register the sound of faint shuffling, but even then he didn't turn around, instead attacking the earth harder, dimply aware of spots of pain in his hand, on the slippery hold he had on the wooden handle, of ingesting the smoke- not breathing it, but fucking eating the powdery tar.

Ironically enough, it was the sound of the lighter that startled him out of his increasingly violent attempts to murder the earth, making the shovel slip from his grasp and whip around as if he'd distractedly passed in front of an open closed and just realized there was a clown with a butchers knife on it afterwards. The tiniest flicker of red light illuminated the older man's mouth, highlighting lines and dirt and blood that dripped on the floor from his nose, and without looking away, he bent and retrieved the shovel. The whites of his eyes stood out from the darkness like those of an animal, clean and pristine and disgustingly perfect. His eyes were dots of black and nothing shone on them, nothing at all I gazed a gazeless stare and walked a million hills, but never far enough, because the redhead was still there, and he wondered (like so many times before) what could he have done to have the redhead see whatever he saw in him, what the hell the other wanted so much as to do this. _I must have died alone._

'…a long, long time ago…' his voice came out in a low hiss, lips stretched into a toothy grin as the shovel finally found softer earth and dug down, a blister on his hand breaking and filling him with burn when the sweat penetrated the sore. He should have. The redhead watched him in silence. He saw how the man reacted and that made him stop himself for a moment, letting the lighter burn the already started cigarette. But when he saw the man's face (so beautiful, beautiful gem) he calmly switched it off. Now, once again, he felt the ash in his mouth, in his throat, in his lungs and again, he felt nothing at all. That's what cigarettes were. A colorful breathing for maniacs. He didn't really know why he started to smoke. He wasn't sure if he even liked it. He coughed, feeling how the blood accumulating in his nose fell on the floor through his lips, red and salty. He listened to the words in silence. There was something on his cheek still. Wind blew. His eye slowly, very slowly, united together, showing hundredth, fifty, not only twenty Minatos. He still liked them all. He smiled warmly.

'And why not you? Why the hell _not you_?' he muttered around the cigarette, making it fall on the ground 'There are no rules. I am. You are. We are.'

He liked that idea. He took the cigarette from the ground, taking it to his mouth again. Tasted like filth.

'I am. You are. We are.' He repeated with delight 'I am. You are. We...' He stopped and frowned. 'I am hungry.' He whispered, like if it was a threat. He didn't like the way he felt too. There was a shuddering breath from the blond, followed by a start when his lips got burned. No filter, nothing to stop the foul thing from burning all the way to his lips, and he spat it in the widening hole. It looked like a big mouth.

'You are a bastard.' Who knows? _Not me._ The shovel dug into increasingly softer earth, and he finally had enough to actually fill the shovel before starting to pile the excess next to what he was digging. The wind blew hard little fragments of dirt into his eyes. 'Eat your heart out.' the blond slowly turned around, his eyes slightly wide as he thought over the words he'd just uttered, like so many things before. Things that would never be able to take back. (I never lost control)

'Eat your eyes.' _Stop looking at me! _But the redhead only stared back, his face even darker than before. He coughed again, making the cigarette fall on the earth one more time, but he didn't pick it up again. The bleeding from his nose finally stopped. So did the cut on his cheek (that sticky thing).

'I'm so hungry.' he repeated with pressure, like if being hungry itself was responsible by hunger alone. 'I'm so, so hungry…' he finally got up.

'It's your fault.' he said finally as he stepped closer, and closer, and closer. 'I won't eat my heart. Give me yours.'

Two more steps. He smiled. Even despite looking so cornered (trapped, like a bunny) Minato looked so pretty.

'I won't eat my eyes.' he said, reaching out for the man and catching him by the hair. 'Give me your eyes.' They were so pretty, they had to taste good. he never thought that eyes could be eaten. Minato was so smart. For every stumbled step the redhead took, Minato took one back, but there had to be some error, some phase shift, some lag, because the space didn't maintain, the older man caught up with him and grabbed him by the hair again.

'No.' he said, feeling his hands loosening the grip on the shovel, because it felt like if t wasn't there at all anyway, life if he hadn't used it to smack the man upside down his stupid bloody head- 'No, no, no, no!'

His freed hands finally pressed against the man's chest and pushed, hard. It hurt his hair, but he pushed again, and when that didn't help, one went up, fingers digging in the cut of his cheek.

'Leave me the fuck alone, Daichi!'

The man winced and turned his head to the other side, making the access to his cheek harder. It hurt, but somehow he didn't mind. At the same time he just pulled the blond man closer, looking right into his dinner. He wondered: would it be tasted plucked out or gnawed straight from the face? But then, if he did that, there would be a big bloody hole left, and he didn't really want that. He liked Minato pretty. Such beings were made for the world only because it would be uglier without them.

He let go of the blond, pushing him back to the hole he managed to make in the ground already. Disappointed. That's how he felt. He got back to the stone where he sat at before and he sat there again. His hands went into his pockets and took out some rectangle shaped object right in front of his eyes. He looked at it, surprised. Oh. He had food. He had no idea. And he made it just the way he liked. Greasy ham, yumm. Lots and lots of butter on the bread. He licked it off the meat very profusely.

The redhead didn't bother looking at the blond now, he completely engulfed himself into the pleasure of biting through the ham and bread, treating every bite like a moment that wouldn't happen again. He almost purred out of content, making satisfied noises actually here and then. Finally, it was all gone from his hands. He tossed the paper out, right near the verge of the hole. The wind blew, and it fell right in.

'I'm not hungry anymore.' he stated with pleasure and propped his elbows on his knees. This time he didn't lit a cigarette. This time he enjoyed watching the man just like that. He smiled again. 'Next time I will eat you.'

He stopped at the words again, turning to stare at the redhead, the only distinguishable features in the dark being his eyes. They glowed like a cat's in the moonlight, and Minato thought one should never sleep with a cat. Old wives tale's said if you did, they would eat your soul. What had happened in the last year of colleague for the redhead? What had happened after they had lost contact? Daichi had always been a little too violent, a little too weird, but he had- he'd never- Minato had loved him. He has needed to get away from all that mess. So why all of this now? Why after so many years, why so repetitively? He went back to work.

Even once he'd reached the comparatively softer earth, it took him almost five hour to make a hole deep enough to burry a person. In a coffin, they got buried six feet under, so if he didn't want it to be found he had to go a bit further than that. Even if this was the middle of nowhere, and he had no idea where the redhead had actually killed the fa- the guy (where had all the glass come from anyway? It looked like church glass, but it didn't have any color, so-).

'I'm done.' His voice slightly uneven after the effort, muscles hot and aching after hours of piling dirt and heaving it on the gradually deeper hole. He moved out of it, moved away, keeping his eyes on the redhead and the shovel on his hand, his grip slippery from the broken blisters and the sweat on the handle. 'I'm done with all of this. I don't…' he trailed off, feeling his eyes starting to sting horribly and needing to take a deep breath to keep himself from breaking completely. He supposed he was fortunate. Not everyone got two exits out of such situations, the way he did. That he didn't want to take either didn't help matters at all either way, but he was tired of this. He was so tired any ending seemed good as long as it meant no more waiting for news or waiting for phone calls in the middle of the night.

'I'm tired. I can't take it anymore. Don't call me anymore, Daichi. Don't follow me anymore.' Futile. Like throwing rocks on a well. 'Please, just leave me alone.'

'Alone?' repeated the man, propping his chin on his hand and looking at him, more like a bored child at the lunapark than the man at the scene of hiding the murder. 'Why do you want me to leave you alone? The night is too sad to spend it without your lover.'

The blond shook his head, quickly averting his eyes.

'We are not lovers. We never were.' He'd just- They had- 'Please.'

'We are not?' repeated Daichi, seeming to be just a little more surprised, but not very believing at the same time. 'How come we are not lovers? I love you.'

Minato looked back at him, his expression horrified. For a moment the features shifted, as if he were to smile, before stopping somewhere in between. A faulty mask.

'You love me? You ruined my life, Daichi. You turn everyone I loved away from me. You made me run for twelve years. You killed my sister.' Another deep breath, the hand on the shovel's handle shifting slightly, making the light catch on the dirty blade of it. 'What did you do to her? Why did you fuck my life up like this?'

The redhead moved his head to the side, then to the other, a bit like a kid at the swing, but not really.

'She said no.' he spoke up finally and smiled 'And then she broke. Dolls break when they don't do what they're told to do.' He looked a bit at the side, visibly lost in thoughts – pleasant ones as his face almost beamed with sweet dreaming – but then it vanished, like if it was washed off. 'I love you.' He repeated, this time with more pressure and without the tone of adoration.

'Why my sister, you bastard?' more desperate now, oh so more hurt. he'd suspected. He'd thought about it, but never really known- 'She was all the family I had left!'

All he'd had left after the redhead had systematically targeted everyone he moved close to, after he'd wiped his chances of anything new. She was supposed to be safe, she was his sister for fucks sake-

The redhead only blinked, then looked at him surprised.

'You have a sister?'

For a moment he thought he'd be sick. That thought started bordering on certainty at the older man's expression. What happened here? What happened to you?

'I had a sister. Now I don't have anyone at all.'

'I'm here.' said the redhead, then his gaze once again was glazed with haze of adoration and praise. 'You're so pretty.'

'I'm not for you.' No way out of this. 'Don't call me. Don't look for me, just go away. Go away from my life.'

The redhead looked at him with the same expression, then slowly moved his head to the side, looking mindlessly at the dirt near his feet. He didn't seem to be understanding what was said to him at all.

'My head hurts.' he muttered, touching the place where Minato hit him with the shovel 'I don't know.' He saw in pieces, but he wasn't sure what was it, what it wanted from him anymore. Something was still wrong and he felt it, but even if it didn't matter it was disturbing, because… well… ah. _What._ He closed his eyes, feeling the sudden pressure on his ears and held still until it went away. Then he looked back at the blond with expression as neutral as the one of a guardian of Buckingham Palace.

'I don't know why.' he muttered, then got up, slowly walking up to the blond, watching him like an expose behind the glass window 'It hurts so badly. You're not going away, are you?' Then, like if something had gritted in him, he stopped and looked at the blond with a frown.

'You're not going away, are you?' he asked with the same tone. 'I'll bring you flowers.'

'I don't want flowers!' the blond exploded suddenly, banging the shovel so hard against the wall the hit made his whole arm reverberate and the open cuts and sores in his hands howl in protest. 'I don't give a fuck about roses or rose ashes! Go away, Daichi! Go the fuck away and leave me alone...' And back then he'd cried when the redhead had had to leave, just like he was crying now, dirty, sweaty and so, so broken.

'You don't want flowers?' he asked, puzzled. But why? He was sure that he did, he was very, very sure, only he didn't know why. He remembered something about giving red roses to blond, but he didn't know – did he give them? Or maybe he didn't and only wished he did? Maybe he promised; yeah, that sounded like it. He smiled, happy that he found solution. 'I'll give you roses!' he exclaimed like if he found the cure for bad disease and did nothing beside that. Slowly, it came to him that he didn't have any flowers around. Neither in his hands, or at his feet.

'I won't give you roses.' he said, looking at the earth, wondering why they weren't there. Shouldn't they be there? Maybe not. He looked up. 'But you love me, don't you?'

The blonde just looked at him brokenly- the same defeated, despairing expression of so many broken porcelain figurines after they had been glued back together. Nothing was the same anymore, how could he even ask?

'Where is my sister, Daichi?' he breathed, feeling air push past his lips, but there was no warmth to it anymore. The moon shone above them, frozen. '…where am I?' his voice cracked, feel. It tasted of blood and graves and glass. Of roses and rose ashes. 'Do you even remember anymore…?'

The redhead had only smiled at the words. They were like a sweet melodic tune to him, their meaning less important, less obvious to him. Something didn't click. The old pedal was stepped on too many times. So it broke, a bit. Only a bit. But still, it only knocked on the ground deafly when he tried to use it. So he didn't. He closed his eyes, one covered in the blooded from crashed side of the face, looking through the crashed black glasses at the blonde.

'I'm here, you're with me.' he muttered, calm and serene 'And we're in this together. Keep digging.'

The redhead had only looked at him for a long moment, not reacting. Oh… so it's done. He looked at the ground, the crumbs of his eaten sandwich already melted with the mud and concrete.

So, _it's done_. He laughed out loud.

'Keep digging.' he repeated, this time with much less sweet tone.

'This one is already done.'

The man kept smiling. Oh, oh my. So the blond said it was over. Oversized overhauled overdone overmastered overeaten… He stood up, litting the cigarette. Black. Black like his mittens, black like his glasses, black like his…

(he saw her her eyes and her smile so wide and caked in happiness as he made her happy happy happy-)

(…happy)

Somehow, he felt content.

'Okay.' he said, getting up, not tearing his eyes from the blond, his beautiful pretty face full of beautiful pretty full of beautiful pretty- Clink. The piece of glass from his glasses fell on the ground, uncovering a bit of his bloodied cheek, making him stop the thinking.

Ah yes. He was happy.

'Happy birthday.'

He said and caught the man on the arm, taking him on a walk. Yeah. And he caught the arm, the cold stiff bone through the quilt and took it also for the walk.

_Yeah._


	6. bitE through

He'd thought the forest of death in Konoha was bad. Then he'd gone to Suna and learnt here were anthills bigger than he was, the sun could literally cook you, sand could bury you if you stood still too long - oh, and spiders that were accurately named 'camels' because that was their frigging size. Impressive, really impressive. He'd thought nothing could top that. Then they got a mission to Water country.

'Can you tell me- no, seriously, can you fucking TELL ME how the hell do you always get in this situations where there's a bit of water involved?'

He was sure someday this would be really funny. Hilarious even, but after a day of avoiding quicksand, sentient carnivorous plants, just about every flavor of the rainbow when it came to poisonous plants and nearly being eaten by a friggin' hippo. (Water country: the only country where you learn hippos aren't nice and fucking swans are made of evil!).

'No, really, I want to know. I think I deserve it!'

He didn't want to be mean to Daichi, really. He didn't, but he was feeling a bit nervous right now, and he had to take it out on someone. And considering their original team of eight was now down to three (two, considering Kushina had ran off to get help from the nearest settlement), he didn't have much choice on the matter. Either way, Daichi was more nervous than he and for better reason, so he felt at least fighting with him was enough to keep them both from panicking. One would think a lake swarming with hydras would be the kind of thing you put warning signs on. That's how the last five of their team had gone actually- mommy woke up hungry and kind of gobbled them up while everyone tried to get to shore.

Now here they were – tired, dangerously low in chakra, cold, hungry, and thoroughly bitten. Because Sunanins didn't know what to do in water. While the less fortunate- though admittedly smarter fallen nin had all dove for the shore, Daichi had stood still shocked for most of the attack, only managing to dislodge the thing's mouth when it tried to gobble him whole (purely out of fight or flee instinct, he would bet. Only Daichi's flight instinct was kind of stunted and replaced by 'fight until opponent can be passed through strained without issue').

That had understandably upset the creature, so it had settled for trying to drown their friend. Both Kushina and Minato had dove back into the water for their teammate, and then the lake had rearranged itself in fun and weird new shapes than nearly drowned them both. As he found out later, Daichi had used a jutsu to literally rearranged the bottom of the lake so it crushed the creature. Only problem was that he had created a sort of pocket cave right in the middle of it, and unlike normal creatures who normally went towards light when underwater, Daichi had gotten right into it. Now there was a nice little hole just big enough to get a hand through, and the bottom wasn't particularly deep, one would be able to get back out easily, right?

Wrong. By disturbing the bottom, the future Kazekage had upset and prematurely hatched just about a billion of hungry baby hydras, which had proceeded to devour their mother, the remaining nin and Minato if Kushina hadn't bodily gotten him out of the water fast enough. But then again, inside the pocket cave, Daichi was safe, hydras couldn't stand being out of water for more than a second. It was just a matter of getting help, because the redhead had utterly exhausted his chakra and even if he did manage enough energy to break the rock and sand, the whole structure would collapse on itself, leaving him to the babies to fest on. So for help they were waiting. Only that after Kushina had left, Minato had noticed that the level of water was rising.

So either the idiot had broken something (typical, the only person he knew could break a lake was Daichi) or God really, really hated them.

'How do you even break a lake?' he shot, to no one in particular.

'By force, Luke.' said Daichi through his teeth, not really happy about the given rocket (well deserved, but that didn't have to mean he had to like it), especially as his state was far from the desired one. The mother of all cannibalistic animals of the world managed to bite through the muscles of his left hand and paralyze almost his whole arm; that was the reason why the lake was 'broken' and not reformatted. He planned on actually making a normal big cave that wouldn't collapse under the mere punch and by that he wanted either to have the resting point or escape route as he'd easily get through the earth on the surface. But because his fingers just wouldn't bend for a seal, the jutsu was ended with wrong marking and… there they were. The water coffin with a ticking timer.

He curled up his legs, getting away from the shore, that kept gradually getting closer. He could tell that Minato was now more panicking than thinking, because otherwise he'd already do something, and so far he was only shouting from that damned shore of his. Ah well, he didn't need his help anyway. See? He bandaged his hand all by himself only with teeth and one hand. He was a Suna genius after all. Now, he only had to get out of there swimming through the beautiful cannibalistic spawns of the said mother. Nope, not possible. Too many of them had shown already. By the time he'd get into the shore he'd have either his lungs paralyzed or half of his body eaten.

He sat down and started laughing out loud. Life was just getting pretty cute right now.

'Oh, and I so wanted to fuck you before this would happen.' he muttered to himself, putting his hands to his pockets. 'What a shame, you won't know what you will be missing, blondie.' Daichi laughed out loud one more time as he took out the contents of his pocket. It seemed that most of his senbons were lost during the frantic swimming (one more reason to hate the water countries) but he still had a few shurikens and a pack of exploding tags. He thanked whomever it was who developed tags that exploded even in the water. He didn't remember who it was. He slept through that lesson. Maybe now he'd reread it, if this thing will actually come out as useful. So far it only came out as funny.

'I'm going to blow you up.' he said, chuckling, but he only laid his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He hated Water country. Hated the animals and all venoms they produced. Gods, and granny said to actually take antidote with him for those missions. He was so smart sometimes.

'I can hear you!' the blond shouted angrily, even if it was a lie. He just knew Daichi well enough that if he hadn't bothered to answer loud enough for him to hear, he was sulkily muttering under his teeth things one should not address towards their team captain. 'This is why you don't bring Sunanin to Water country-' he muttered under his breath before adding in another shout 'Next time we have a mission here, you are staying home and learning to cook!'

There were actually more chances of the redhead learning to work on something edible than of learning how to swim right. Only Daichi wouldn't, because that would mean he was alone with Kushina, and after the way the kunoichi had grinned at the mere suggestion- no, it wasn't gonna happen. And he kind of needed Kushina in this mission, because she was one of the few locals who could thread to this watery deathtrap without getting killed.

The screaming got a bit too tempting for hungry babies, apparently, because a couple jumped at him, the blond stumbling back- a bit needlessly, because the things started suffocating immediately after. He moved a foot to crush them, thought about it better, then just moved closer to watch them gape for air before their stupid eyes glazed over. He pushed them back into the water, where their siblings were only too happy to make short work of them. The image was far from reassuring, and he-

'Dai?'

Uncertain now.

Purposely so- he wanted Daichi to say something now. If sounding scared just so he could manipulate Daichi into reassuring him worked, Minato wasn't above that. Even if the act came out a little more natural than he would have preferred. The redhead paled at the first words, but then turned scarlet red as Minato continued his tirade regardless of what he just announced. If he did hear him, he wouldn't act like that. Daichi laughed at that for a moment, then slashed a one daring hydra jumping at him from the water. At least his aim was still good.

'I'm not going to cook.' he muttered to himself. Then repeated, louder 'I'm not going to cook as well as I'm not that dead yet to be called by cutesy names now! I'm blowing this shit up!' Which was a warning or a goodbye, he couldn't decide. With another ironic laughter he took a pack of exploding tags and tossed one right into the center of the small pond. As expected, the animals lunged at it, interested enough to group around it. A moment later half of them was gone, splashing across his skin and the walls. A moment after that moment – the walls began to tremble and his sweet failure of a jutsu started collapsing into itself.

'To be or not to be.' he muttered as he started another tag and jumped right into the water full of dead things being eaten by the living ones, unconcerned by the stones coming at their so called 'heads'. Daichi had almost smirked at the new ones coming right onto him and shot the shuriken with the sizzling tag right into them. Now those were the fireworks.

'I choose be.' he thought quietly. Now it was only the matter of doing that right. With a movements of legs he started swimming up to the surface as fast as he could, leaving another exploding tag behind. The explosion showed up at the surface as the nice big water spray that showered with water, stones and dead baby hydras. He was even lucky enough that it pushed him toward the surface. He caught a breath with gratitude and without wasting time, he started swimming toward the shore. Now, if only his left arm wasn't such a drag now. He shot a kunai at the stubborn animal that already bit at his leg, numbing his toes and cursed inwardly.

'Maybe-_gasp_-a little-_inhale_-help?' he shouted as he resumed the swimming. Now he knew how a bait felt.

Figured angry, stupid redhead would still be just fine, whining about learning to cook, then saying some bullshit about blowing up- blue eyes narrowed. Oh no, he wouldn't. By now the painfully engrained sheer fear of Minato's wrath should be enough to prevent Daichi from doing something so utterly and incredibly- and the small underwater explosion easily enough illustrated the fact that Minato apparently hadn't been sadistic enough to teach his beloved teammate how did the dynamics of Team Red worked as of yet.

'Oh- Daichi, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!' only it didn't sound threatening at all- in fact, his voice went several decibels into positively femaleish pitch., and he was a little too busy to care about it right now. The damage Daichi had done had been minimal, considering the sheer number of the things, and now that there was live, very lively prey leaving a happy trail of fresh blood in the water, every idle toothy creature in the lake was going up after him, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing Minato could do about it. The creatures had already shown a marked resistance towards electricity attack, and even if he gathered enough chakra to actually manage to stun them long enough, chances it would damaged Daichi far worse than them were pretty high.

Out of sheer lack of idea of what to do, he started throwing what was left of his sadly replenished arsenal of weapons to get the ones closer to the redhead away and exploding tags to keep the rest at bay, but even as he did this he knew it was a matter of five or six extra seconds- and Daichi sucked at swimming. Really, really sucked at it, more than what he usually did. Which meant he had lied again and was hurt.

'I hate you.' he muttered under his breath, stopping long enough to create two clones- barely what he could manage in his horribly low levels of chakra without resorting to minimal that he knew would need to get the redhead out- 'I hate you with all my soul.'

Only he didn't, not at all. Quite the contrary, actually, and that's why he sent the clones as fast as he could be running on top of the water, as far as Daichi as possible. One bite and they would dispel immediately, so they better not slow done enough for the things to get the chance- he just hoped closer prey would be more interesting than the one further way, even if Minato himself found it quite delicious from time to time.

One of the clones went down hard for some reason, and even before it could dispel, it had been thoroughly bitten, giving Minato, who was already getting bitten by the ones closer to him the feeling of an extra hundred or so teeth sinking into his skin. He screamed something a little senseless and definitely angry when he finally caught Daichi – overweight, in desperate need of a diet Daichi- and hauled him up onto the water's surface where he'd actually get a chance to get his footing, and hopefully have enough chakra left to stay there so they could run. Considering the way the day had gone, Minato wasn't making any bets on their favor.

'Hey there, how are you.' said Daichi, finding it all for some reason still funny as he caught onto the blond (oh yes, free groping was on the reach of his hand, but he couldn't do that as he wanted, sadly) 'Cause I'm having pretty time, fishing.'

His legs caught up to the surface, but he was glad that the man actually came for him. His toes went completely numb, so he was now limping like if he had broken leg as he just couldn't feel what he was doing. He left the last exploding tag right in the water, so the next explosion behind them pushed the water under their feet and pushed them toward the banks just a bit faster. 'I'm not going to eat fish after all that for at least a week.'

Minato answered with something sweet an polite and appropriate that he was pretty sure Daichi wouldn't find in any of his beloved, squiggly written and dotted poetry books. He just grabbed onto the redhead, hands digging into his skin almost brutally as the animal themselves were and pulled at him, nearly falling off when the second clone was swarmed, and now they were the only entertainment left in this big, salty lake, so of course every available hydra went after their skins. They weren't gonna make it.

For a moment he wondered what sort of eulogy he would get from his sensei. He hoped it wouldn't make too many people cry, because Jiraiya could get downright sappy if he had enough alcohol in his system. Then realized that if he died to save Daichi's sorry ass, his sensei was more likely to start a war on Suna while shouting 'I told you so' to Sandaime-sama. Another bite on his leg, and now he barely could feel it anymore, even with all the antidote he had taken the first time Kushina dragged him spluttering water and swatting at sharp toothed scaly things. No, they weren't gonna make it. He let go of the redhead's side with one hand, his hand casually flickering over the mess of blood coming from the missing chunks of skin and drawing a quick line on his arm. So it was time to show why he fit so well in a team composed of crazy and crazier.

Suddenly yanking on the redhead's arm, he pulled him up again- and he almost didn't manage, because Daichi really felt too heavy for him right now- leaning down into a half crouch as he activated the seal. Daichi landed with a painful 'oof' on his shoulder, nearly dislocating it in the process, and he hoped to all kages that he was intelligent enough to grab onto him, because the next thing that happened was that the blond shot of at an insane speed even for his own standards, all remains of chakra diverted to his legs for the extra boost. It was stupid, it was a bad idea, and he was only too lucky there was a sea between him and Tsunade, because chakra wasn't meant to be manipulated like that under any circumstances, and there were chances he wouldn't even be able to regain use of his limbs normally again, but what else he could do? Before he could think of answer, he ran off the water, up the shore and straight into a tree.

If he had been aiming for it, he would have used the redhead for a pillow. Daichi not only could take it, but he also deserved it. Unfortunately, he wasn't, he hadn't even seen the thing, much less been in a position to stop even if he had. The one that took the blunt of the hit was him, throwing both him and his fat cargo several meters back on rebound, consequently bathing them in a shower of leaves and the odd caterpillar. He breathed, coughed up blood, and winced at the taste.

'…I think I broke my nose.'

'Gah…' muttered the redhead as he shivered under the not so gentle fall. His numbed parts didn't feel a thing so he couldn't tell if he broke anything, but the rest took it not so well. He finally managed to calm down a little and turned his head toward the blond. 'Yeah, you totally did.' he said and smiled again, this time with more of a smirk than a laugh 'Thanks… for whatever was that supposed to be.'

And Minato was now so vulnerable he couldn't help but curse at the fact he couldn't harass his form now. Sadly, his own form was not much better. He managed to crawl up to him closer a few centimeters though.

'Yep. Completely broken.' he said, looking at it closely. It wasn't that bad, but it wasn't that cute either. 'Don't worry, I… and everyone else will love you even if you're going to lose it. ' he said, closing one eye for an emphasis of a joke. Then he looked up and sighed with relief. Why did she have to come two minutes too late and five too early. Always.

Minato could hear her now, too. Kushina could be stealthy when she put her mind to it, but if left to her own devices? She could be loud enough even the deaf grannies across the street could hear her. He tried to breathe again, choked again and managed to roll on his stomach to spit it out, gagging a little. At least now he could breathe. Except the moving wasn't such a hot idea because a very large a wave of pain shot up his spine from somewhere around his tight. He could feel the overheated muscles trembling as they sent him very emphatic messages regarding what they thought of this particular technique. Then they started, for all appearances, to write their memoirs in bold, capitalized letters. When his eyes started filling with tears, he wasn't sure if it was because of his legs or the fact they were still alive.

Really, really lucky Tsunade was in another continent. Still, Kushina was less than two minutes away, and he had something important to do, if it killed him. So he edged a little closer caterpillar style – limbs had for all means given up on him after that stunt- and rested his cheek on the redhead's leg, the nonstop stream coming from his nose staining it right away.

'Dai?'

The redhead looked down at him, his face turning red even if he tried very desperately not to show it – and then it started going grey pale as he noticed the bad aspects of such situation.

'W-what?' he managed to choke out finally as he couldn't decide what to actually feel and just mindlessly stared at the man so close to his… leg. But then he frowned. 'It's Daichi.'

'I just want you to know…' Minato sniffed, trying to clear the clogged passages and failing utterly. '…I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger. And you will know my name is *the law* when I lay my vengeance upon thee.' Then he moved closer and buried his face on the redhead's stomach, doing his best to wrap an arm around his waist, even if it hurt his tender nose to do that. And he totally, utterly would. Just as soon as he managed to convince himself Daichi was as whole as a short, stubborn and thoroughly chewed redhead could be after what they had just went through. But for now, he'd settle for cuddling him. Then watch Kushina beat the shit out of the redhead when she saw what he was doing.

Daichi's eyes went wider with every word that was uttered only to be closed shut in fear as the blond moved. He was a fearless ninja, but now he was actually a weak fearless ninja, but that doesn't mean that even if weakened, his leader couldn't make him suffer even more. He waited like that for a final blow somewhere, everywhere, then another moment, and another… and then he dared to finally open one eye to see if Minato was waiting for him to look into the doom into the eye. But instead, he saw that the man was not doing anything to him – more, he was cuddling him. What he mistook for a simple laying was…

His heart skipped a beat and accelerated, pumping blood to his cheeks and ears, making him look like if he decided to blend with his hair. It, it was unexpected, it was scary, it was…

It was worth it. Yes. It was worth it. He'd do this all over again if it would end up with the same. Or even two times more. Slowly, he let go of the breath he held and laid back, observing the light going through the leaves. He'd love to return the hug or maybe even stroke the mass of hair that laid on him just like that – but he couldn't. Guys just didn't do such things.

'Yes, sir.' he only muttered, listening to his own heartbeat. 'I deeply apologize for my recklessness.'

Why did he have to fall so hard for that man.

Why.


	7. of planEts and univErsEs

It was all the fault of the moon.

If it wasn't for the circular, fattened body on the sky, he was sure everything would be all right. If it wasn't for the way it shone, he knew he would be all right.

But the moon was there in the sky and nothing was all right.

It has started all with three – no, four of them actually. Here was he, the redhead, the levitating body in the sky, torn by two gravitation centers, pulled on the both sides, torn and at the same time – unstoppable. There was the comet that decided to fly certainly into the closest sun and burn in the hot flames, just as red and dashing as the comet itself and there was the rain of meteorites – the one that fell on him every now and then (blonde, quiet, but always impacting his surface, always leaving the trail of wounds on the surface.

And of course, there was a star. The man who shone like a sun, the man who was a star and the man who really was nothing else but moon – insane, irrational and giving out bad luck. He was just a moon – but he knew how to pretend. And thus, the lunar light shone on all of them.

It was all the fault of the moon, because if it wasn't for him, everything would be all right. He'd fly away with his meteorites and the comet would go on its own way. And he was stuck in-between two gravitations, one of them being the sun, the other – the unknown, where the meteorites tried to push him. The meteorites were never affected by the moon. Just didn't try to let him have his way.

And it was all moon's fault, because he craved the lunar light. Wasn't it like usual? Wasn't it normal?

(it wasn't, because Karura wasn't really meteorites and she was all right with everything, and he wasn't a fucking planet, and especially not a torn planet, but he liked to pretend).

He looked up at the sky, his shoulders naked, chilling. Even if the fire shone in the lightplace, he still could see the magical lunar light.

If it wasn't for the moon, everything… if it wasn't for the moon, he wouldn't have come here, as he wouldn't have time. If it wasn't for the moon, he wouldn't have brought the alcohol with himself, because it wouldn't catch his eye when he walked out of his room. If it wasn't for the moon, he wouldn't have drank it, he wouldn't have get drunk, he wouldn't have danced, he wouldn't have sang…

If it wasn't for the moon, he wouldn't have looked into the pristine eyes, and he wouldn't have seen the magic in them, the magic that led them both through the dancing hall. The lunar glow made the pale skin look like if it was covered in glitter, and it made the smile so much more outstanding. If it wasn't for the moon, he wouldn't have made them both insane and wouldn't lead them both through the rooms, to this place, to this bed. He turned around, seeing through the net of covers and watched the semen slowly spilling out of the places he should have never touched even by hand. White drops stilled into tears and shone insanely in the moonlight.

The moon was mad and the moon was irrational, and if it wasn't for him – nothing would have happened.

'Get up, Kushina, there's no use in pretending it didn't happen.'

And she gets up, only it isn't like if she is following the command. And not a gravitational pull, it's not helplessness or destiny, or accursed luck or anything like that. She's not a celestial body, she is a woman painfully in control of herself and decided to own herself and march on.

'It didn't happen."

And she is sitting in his bed clad only in a waterfall of red hair that in the moonlight looks like forbidden fruit and she doesn't care. She isn't shy and she has never had a reason to be self conscious, and none of this ever happened, so why should she start now.

'Future kages don't make mistakes, and if anything at all had happened, it would be a hell of one. So nothing happened.'

And she doesn't ask or expects him to agree; she doesn't wait for his answer and doesn't make a move to get dressed. She knows him. None of that is needed.

The man doesn't answer. In the end, it's not like if he didn't want to see the show, it's not like if he didn't want to get eaten by the illusion, taken by madness, swallowed by lack of logic. He still feels her taste on his tongue and he still remember the way he felt inside, under him, on his back. Her smell is everywhere and he doesn't deny its existence, just as he doesn't deny the existence of wounds her nails left or the existence of spots his teeth left on her skin. He made a mistake and they were both in guilty, but as long as nobody else knows, they're the only ones who can judge each other. The lock of her hair is still entwined with his fingers and he brushes it lightly with his thumb, cold and yet so hot it burns his eyes. The fire only empowers that.

He smiles.

'Who knows…'

His words spill like pearls, like broken necklace, loose strings and rolling beads.

'…who knows, maybe this would have given us happiness.'

Because if they wouldn't fight and be there for each other, maybe then nobody else would get hurt. The star can exist without planets or comets or meteorites. Only meteorites can't exist on their own, not really – but then, they change into their own planets and search for their own stars.


	8. drinking gamE

'There's yoghurt in your shirt.' she says, and he feels like dying, dying, dying.

It's not yoghurt and it's not frozen cream. It's not ice cream or milk or the filling of some stuffed candy.

It's semen (and he thinks about it like that, because it's better. It's safe and impersonal and academic even, and if he thinks about it as in 'jizz' or 'gunk' or 'cum' or 'seed' (and 'seed' is the worst somehow, 'seed' is the one that might drive him mad) he might start to scream, scream, scream.

'Ai.'

And it's not sweet. It is not sweet and it isn't right, it's covered by bacteria and fermented and halfway to rotting, and no one should willingly buy the stuff, no one should willingly eat it and think it's healthy when every rational thought should point out to how flawed that assumption might be.

It's an era of fitness trainers and weight-watchers and wanna-be dieters, and among them the blonde's swims like a lost draft in the sea, and he never has seen the interest, never paused to stop at the aisle and so much as stare, because it's not his thing and he holds no interest.

And then there's strawberry and there is mint and it looks so sweet (and it isn't).

'Ai.' he thinks.

He wonders if there's anything about that in what they have.

#+#+#+#+#+#

'What would you like to drink?'

'Milk.' he answers, and then says nothing, because there's nothing else left to say. The lights blink and pass him, moving and ignoring, the world ignores his steps.

But he really doesn't like milk. He never had occasion to suck it up like everyone else.

'What would you like to drink?'

'Alcohol.' he answers, as he walks through the unseen and through the unknown. The TV from the display on his right chatter about weather, politics, accidents and deaths and he ignores it – treating all the same (politics, accidents, weather and death). He doesn't really drink alcohol. Too bitter. Too lonely.

'What would you like to drink?'

'Water.' he answers and stops, every now and then, stops always and sees everything, as he has time, too much time. His life is full of space, his heart is on rent (on vacations, on the holidays, on the free leave) and he can decide whom to give it, only he doesn't really think about it. His mind doesn't really remind him and the heart (is gone).

The water leaves no taste.

'What would you like to drink?'

'Energy drinks.'

Cola, Pepsi, Red Bull, Fanta, Sprite, a whole bunch of Frugos and a hoard of sweetened water, all with chemical adds, all with cancer sold on coupons. He swallows them slowly and then looks up to the sky. It doesn't matter, it never mattered that nobody really answered and that the radiation only ate at his skin.

(I'm hungry).

'What would you like to drink?'

'Tea.'

Because it's healthy, because everyone drinks it and because it's just two or three leaves to make him feel a whole bunch of other tastes, the tastes that wouldn't exist without smell, the tastes that aren't really there. He know his brother drinks tea, he knows his sister drinks tea, everyone in his family drink tea. Everyone different, jasmine, pu-erh, classic, earl grey. And they all drink the same fucking leaves.

And they leave bitter aftertaste.

'What would you like to drink?'

'Coffee.'

It's dark, it's bitter and it gives him nightmares, because when you can't sleep it's when you become aware of how insane you can be. It's a drink of demons and a drink of blessed ones, the damnation and salvation, addictive and untrustworthy, as you just need more, more, more and then you can't live without it. Because, really, where would you be without your morning cup of coffee?

Probably somewhere healthier. But he drinks it anyway. After all, he owns a mug for a reason.

'What would you like to drink?'

'Cocoa.'

The same as coffee, only sweeter, only more tempting, more carnivorous. It hides all his worries, it sinks all his bitter ends, just like chocolate, just like all stuff he lives through, with tea, coffee and even bleak water too. It covers him with a blanket and makes him forget he is alive, because it feels so damn good.

Only, he really hadn't drink any since childhood. In the end, all big boys just had to put all their sweets, toys and teddies into the cardboard and start drinking their morning cups of bitterness. Possibly, it was better this way. And also, cocoa make you fat.

(and teddies had to grow into bears)

'What would you like to drink?'

He stops and ponders. He ponders about his thirst and counts the money in his pocket. There's not much, but then too much and he really doesn't need it. Instead, he stops a stranger and smiles at him.

'Can I?' he asks, looking at the bottle of food, the bottle of yoghurt (to drink) and it smells of oranges, of mandarins, of citruses, and promises blue sky on Hawaii, like all those adverts, like all those lying realities in the glassy boxes. But then, he smells almond, and he lies the tricky, cyanide filling that makes it all so forbidden and so toxic, all that suits his taste.

So he drinks and it tastes like semen, all salty, gushy, gunky, with chlorine and sweat, and he knows that

'Yoghurt.'

is all he had ever needed.


	9. clawlEss paw

Minato had kind of just been in his apartment when he'd gotten back home, half of the contents of his cupboards on the counters while the blond glared at them irritably

'You don't have eggs, how the hell do you even live?' the source of irritation, as usual, wasn't the lack of eggs or that, like usual, half of the things he found were already past their expiration date, because whenever he randomly took the redhead's kitchen for hostage, there was something that seemed to be minutes away from growing sentience and crawling around in search for food on its own. That wasn't news. No, as usual, Minato was pissed off because of his girlfriend.

'And it's not emasculating or stupid or anything, it's like, like-' he looked around for something inspirational to compare it to. He only thing his eyes only found the kitten-shaped oven mittens.

'Like declawing a kitten! Cats come with claws because evolution said they should have them, and then people think it's funny and shit to rip their paws open and gut that thing from the root- and then what? It doesn't grow back. Ever. And if by chance it gets lost or something, how the hell is it going to defend itself? If you get a cat, you get it with fucking claws and bear with the scratches , because that's what love is like. It scratches, okay?'

And he closed the oven door after practically throwing both pans inside, as if the appliance was somehow at fault for the situation. Then kept glaring at it for good measure.

'…and that was so incredibly stupid I can't believe it just came off my mouth, but you get what I mean, right?'

With a sigh, the blond's frame finally relaxed from that nervous energy that seemed to always possess him and he turned around, molding himself against the warm oven.

'I mean, we've know each other for ages, and it's always the same. I'm not perfect, I know that, but I don't think I'm that bad. Sure, I smoke, I like my bed unmade and I leave messes in the kitchen-' as if to prove the point, the precariously balanced pile of used dishes slid collapsed on itself, with a sonorous metallic clang that made the blond wince and blush lightly hand rubbing the back of his head.

'But she's not perfect either. And I like that, you know? It's human and interesting- why would anyone want to be perfect? And hell, maybe I don't want to be perfect the way she *thinks* perfect is. It's- it's supposed to be balanced, right? You can't just chirurgically remove what you don't like from one person, because I never was any different, it's not like if I hid any of this stuff. And it's always the same- why does she want to change me now? To fit in with her perfect little girl friends and brag about what a perfect little whipped boyfriend she has? I'm not cutting my hair. And no, this isn't just about cutting my hair, but I'm still not cutting it.'

The younger man messed his eyes lightly.

'You know, you can stop me when I start talking stupid. You are supposed to.'

Without another word, the redhead leaned forward and kissed the blond on the lips.

'Stop talking.' he said plainly and got into playing with a few clean spoons again. Really, if he didn't know any better he'd think that the girl he was with was a source of pleasure for hidden masochistic tendencies. Unlike other times when the blond playfully smacked him from his attempts at molestation, Minato didn't say anything and just gave the redhead a frustrated look, before turning to peer into the oven. With a huff, he opened the thing.

'Get out of the way.'

And sometimes he really wondered why he bothered to go cook at the redhead's kitchen when it was such a tiny little place it was practically hazardous to have two people in it as they'd be in constant danger of smacking into each other. And other times he knew exactly why he took the hour and a half trip when he didn't even own a car to make this the least bit more manageable, and he just felt stupid. And kind of like a cocktease, which was all kinds of wrong when he didn't even like cockteases. Which he totally wasn't anyway.

'Here, it's done.' he said, pouring the pale and rather appettecible dark and heavy mixture (which he was so glad for, as some pictures of the recipe had looked like some pale shit he wouldn't touch with a ten foot stick) into the cups he had previously prepared for this, then removing the apron he'd been wearing. 'Try to let it cool before pouring it in your mouth, or your tongue's gonna melt right off.'

The redhead had obediently blew some steam off as he sipped the hot as heck liquid that both burned and pleasantly tickled his taste buds. He was used to having too cold or too hot food by now. Especially since the blond had gone through such frenzies.

'It's good.' he said, sipping even more 'I love when you come over to just make me coffee.'

And as for the girlfriend, he suspected she had finally smelled him on her terrority - such acts seemed to be the acts of trying to make the blond 'her and only her'. But he didn't say that out loud. He didn't want to upset the blond. he made him coffee after all.

'It's not coffee.' the younger man said sourly, as if the description had offended him. 'It's pudding.'

Good thing he knew the redhead wouldn't wait for it, like he never did, and especially got something that wouldn't kill him when he tried to chug it down before it was solid.

'I made enough for you to have some for tomorrow, if you'll let it cool enough for it to go to the fridge, that is.' He wasn't sure if he was supposed to frown, wince or laugh at what the redhead was doing-yet another proof of Daichi being a freak. Which he quite liked.

'So, uh. Back to talking stupid-' he swallowed a little, and winced when the redhead took another sip as if the thing could really at room temperature- he wondered if there would be blisters there soon enough- 'I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wouldn't mind you scratching me, if you still want to. Because I've decided I'm single again.'

He blinked, rubbing suddenly sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans, and licked his lips.

'And now I'm gonna go buy, you know. Eggs. Or something. I'm taking your keys.'

'Okay.' said the redhead, putting the 'pudding' (he still called it coffee and he was going to drink it now) down and blocking the only way out of the kitchen. 'Tomorrow. Now stay and explain to me how single your singleness is after selling me such a proposition in a tight hot kitchen.'

It was needless to say that before he had ended saying those words, the space between them got even smaller. He just liked what he wanted pinned and immobile under him. Or against a wall, like now.

'Uh.' Minato automatically backed away- or tried to, because it was quite impossible in the minuscule kitchen, not without smacking on the oven which was still quite hot to try to squirm through right now. He just managed a step before his hip hit the counter. "…Quite single. But you really need those eggs. For breakfast. And stuff.'

'Aw, you've just shattered my heart to millions of little pieces.' said the redhead with a tint of mockery as he smiled at the blond 'Screw eggs. I will feast on blond tonight.'

And there were no further words as he simply grabbed the man into a trapilicious hug and started kissing the living lights out of him.

Minato didn't defend himself.

He couldn't.


	10. the othEr lovEr

Kabzoom.

Or maybe ksha-bah.

Or maybe even 'abwowowowooo'. He wasn't sure. But what he did know that the sounds that were made by thunders and the storms that followed with heavy sizzling rain that no coat could protect from things he didn't like. Maybe not despised, maybe not detested - but disliked. He preferred a brightly sunny day where nothing could soak wet, get chilly to the bone or look just as gloom and dangerous like during storms. His bad luck wanted that when everything rolled down, it happened all at once and the bad weather was just the tip of the iceberg. In the morning he lost his job over that some guy decided he didn't like his face and accused him of being a child molester, which of course, disagreed with the policy of the company. Not wanting a scandal and long process of explaining he was simply kicked out to the street under some absurd hole in his contract and automatically was turned down by his family who decided to look down at the man who didn't earn money anymore. Being in rather bad mood and hysteric over the fact that money for his just-got-pregnant-again wife were not going to flow even from the source he expected help from, he didn't control himself as much as he should have and... well, the raging from his side quickly turned tables on him once he screamed out that his lover was much better in bed than a pregnant whiny woman. After this he had landed on the street with a very small packet of clothes that were thrown out of the window until Karura didn't get tired from this and last five bucks in his wallet. He could either go sleep under the bridge now or...

'Awful weather today, isn't it.' he almost growled in a greeting when the blond whom he couldn't even inform about his visit in this unexpected time of the day. He went inside without even letting the man tell anything, like 'go away, come later' or anything like that. He nodded toward the guest, friend, whoever was that person and took off the wet coat. 'I hope I didn't interrupt anything important.'

Minato was left staring at the empty hallway for a moment or two, then slowly closed door behind him. He wasn't sure if he was angry or shocked. Of course, he was angry, Daichi had the uncanny ability to make him angry enough he often fantasized about bashing his head with that absurdly heavy ashtray he kept for decorative purposes, but he was also quite shocked. And his chest might have been just the tiniest bit wiggly on the inside, but the anger and shock were predominant.

Turning around slowly, he tried to do what those stupid yoga articles in the magazines always said and take a deep breath and let it go through his eyeballs or something. It was remarkably useless and attempt, but the effort from it was enough to calm him down enough he was sure no veins were throbbing on his temples visibly anymore, so maybe they did earn their money with all that zen bullcrap.

He wasn't surprised to see that the shorter man had quickly retrieved his his glasses and put them back on, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for his friend. It had probably taken a lot out of the poor agoraphobic Aburame to get here, and he was reasonably sure that if he let silence sink for another quarter of hour or so, the man would have finally gotten out with it and asked him the phone of his co-worker.

'Shibi, this is Sabakuno Daichi.' he said casually enough, pointing at the redhead as he resumed his seat next to the bespectacled man. He did it expressively close enough there wouldn't be enough space for the redhead to need to use one of the single couch, yet away enough it wouldn't rattle Shibi too badly. 'Sabakuno-san, this Aburame Shibi.'

And he left it at that. He didn't clarify where they worked, what they did or clarify their respective relationships with each other. If he was sorry that Shibi was here at this moment, at least he was relieved it hadn't been Inoichi. The man was a terrible gossip. As for Daichi, he hadn't seen him for three months and the man didn't need or deserve any explanations. Daichi only looked at the man, without much pleasure or happiness in the stiff man overall, but he nodded toward him.

'Pleasure.' he muttered, though it was obvious he was far from feeling pleased. Then, he chose the seat quite far away from where Shibi had sat, not bothering to look like if he was in guests - actually, he looked like a husband that came home after tiring day of work and was waiting for the service to get him warm house slippers and cold beer. Though probably now, he would probably would like something more of warm matters. He looked to the side, letting his hair freely drip all over the back of the seat and started rolling up his wet sleeves.

'I'm sorry for coming so suddenly in the middle of the meeting, but this couldn't be done later.' he said and looked down at the shoes the guest was wearing. Shiny and polished. So, a pedantic guy or maybe just had a pedantic wife. No man should be wearing something like that in such rain and look neat. 'Besides, I lost keys to my car so I wouldn't be able to wait outside too long.'

More like - left them in the house, but that was another thing. he still hesitated from talking about the reason of his visit, especially with the third person in the room. He looked at his nails.

'It sure is raining, huh?'

The last question was directed straightly at Shibi. The expected service didn't get him his slippers or his beer- in fact, he didn't bother with offering him dry clothes, a chance to clean up or even a towel. In fact, he remained in his seat sipping from a steaming mug of Caramel Macchiato without offering anything to his 'guest', which coming from someone that had paid his way through colleague as a professional barista was somewhat on the glaring side of rude.

If Daichi wanted his damned coffee, he could as well walk to where the espresso machine was and make himself one, same with getting the towels or even taking a shower. He wasn't going to say no to any of those things, he just didn't feel like if the man deserved his hospitality.

'That's terrible.' Minato said in a neutral tone, as if what the redhead had just said didn't affect him at all. They hadn't ended in a fight exactly, though Daichi probably thought they had. It all had just come down to the fact Minato didn't want 'homebreaker' attached to his name. If Daichi could cheat on his wife without batting an eye, that was his problem. Especially if on top of that he decided to knock her up a second time.

'Do you want to call a garage so they can help you?'

If Shibi found this bizarre lack of education strange on Minato, he stuck to his own Oolong tea without giving any hint to noticing, and much less to being willing to share. He cringed at the question – actually physically cringed like if he had stepped on something unpleasant – then gave the other man a single curt nod without really looking at him.

The redhead kept staring at Shibi for a quite long silence at the answer, actually expecting the worded out response or maybe a polite question back, the stuff one made when they started small talks. But it seemed that this one was not as keen on making contact as he thought he would be. For a moment he wondered if he hadn't come to some secret meeting or maybe even caught Minato with some other lover he wasn't supposed to know about, but he discarded the idea away. Maybe later he would worry, but not now.

'I already called them.' he muttered, turning his gaze at Minato 'They said they couldn't help me with this. So...'

He closed his eyes and moved his hand through his still soaked wet hair.

'I think I'm going to clean myself a bit, in the end getting sick on such day is the last thing I want.'

And without another word or glance toward any of men, he walked out of the room to spend his time effectively in the shower cabin, using the water he currently had no way to afford. But he didn't think about it; this place was too familiar already, so it felt like second home. Sometimes it even was.

Minato gave a vague nod in the redhead's direction, making sure not to look at the small at him as he left. This wasn't good. He didn't know what to make of any of this, and the most obvious answer made him almost painfully uncomfortable. For the matter, so did the idea of the redhead in his shower, through for completely different reasons.

It was only after he was gone that he saw his friend relax slightly in that slight slouch that Minato found so funny and comforting. The Aburame never seemed to be comfortable with people he had just met, and Daichi's aggressive and bold personality probably hadn't helped matters.

'Sorry about that, Shibi.'

'It's all right.' the man said calmly, voice low and soft. Minato moved a bit to the corner of his couch to give the man more room and saw him relax another degree. He wondered how he expected to even date with the way he was, but then again, kaho did seem to like him well enough as it was… 'Is he your lover?'

Then again, maybe he'd be just fine. Minato did his bets to control the impulse to dislodge his jaw and ruin all this precious coffee he had prepared and plain gawked at the dark haired man. Talk about forward.

'…not anymore.' He answered after a moment of hesitation. He didn't exactly try to hide his sexual preferences, but that didn't mean he flaunted them, and the Aburame was as touchy as one could be on any personal subject. Minato didn't want to lie to him, but he still doubted before answering, afraid he'd suddenly decide their friendship wasn't worth associating with him.

To his credit, the shorter man didn't appear disgusted or shocked (which said a lot coming from a man who had insisted on washing himself the mug before allowing Minato to fill it).

'Does he know it?'

'I informed him about it.'

Shibi nodded and said nothing else, but the dark lenses moved towards the door in a way that plainly said he didn't think the redhead had been listening at the time. You didn't exactly waltz inside exes houses and use their showers every day. Minato was personally more worried about the bag Daichi had brought with him, but he figured he had put the shorter man through enough discomfort to last him several years. He was just opening his mouth to tell him maybe they could talk at another time when the man spoke up again.

'Would you like for me to stay?'

Shibi asked this in a rush, words nearly tripping on themselves and it touched Minato to know the man cared for him enough to offer, especially knowing how much he disliked being around foreign people. If it wouldn't accidentally give him a heart attack in the process, he would have hugged him in the spot.

'No… no, thank you Shibi. I was just about to suggest maybe we could talk another time. But thank you.'

'It's nothing.' the man said, sinking a little further into the wide turtle neck of the coat he had refused to shed despite the fact it was warm enough inside the house and that he had arrived well before it started pouring. 'Don't mention it.'

It was some good ten minutes later that the man left, after Minato called a cab for him and somehow talked him into accepting the e mail (phone probably suited Shibi's outdated notions of dating, but for today's society it sounded a bit stalkerish), and finally Minato was left alone. He cleaned up the slight mess, which mostly consisted in hanging Daichi's soaking coat and drying his couch, then went to prepare more coffee. He had the feeling it would be a long night.

Much to his lack of knowledge, Daichi had actually ended the shower a few minutes before the Aburame left the room to go to his own place and observed both of them through the slightly opened door while he was taking hair drying and wearing Minato's robe (sadly, Karura didn't throw his own out through the window as the bathroom was possibly the furthest place from their sleeping room; now he didn't even count on getting it back in one piece as there was nothing like destroying night lingerie to let go of frustration, as far as women went. And knowing he slept naked...). As it seemed, the man was quiet, pedantic and clever, but not a type of lover, or at least more of a stalker than committed relationship. It made him feel relief - mostly because it gave him more of chance to get back into his spot and to get some favorization, less from a few other causes like possesivity of belongings he considered marked as his and some more he didn't want to call by names. When he finally heard the cutlery being moved in the kitchen, he decided to walk out of the bathroom, his hair now mostly dry. The smell of newly bred coffee hit him pleasantly in the nostrils with well promising warmth and taste that always made him forget about pains of the day, even if only for a moment. He kept silent for a few seconds, watching the blond moving here and there between the shelves, the only physical similarity he shared with Karura and he smiled. To tell the truth, it had been long three months and it started bothering him that he couldn't get it on with that sexy tush. Maybe if he would let go of this 'family breaker' thing this would be at least a sweet ending of a quite destructive day. In the end, Minato couldn't complain about breaking something that was already beyond reparation.

'Smells pretty.' he said loudly, moving from his spot toward the man. Near enough to look at the things he did with his hands 'What are you making this time?'

Minato stopped the quick, well practiced movements of his hands for a moment, but didn't turn around.

'Irish coffee.'

And not the coffee, baileys and whipped cream shit, he was pouring the black coffee with sugar and a healthy dose of Tyrconnell on it and carefully pouring the just made cream over the back of the spoon so it'd gather on top. Certainly a lot more effort Daichi deserved, but Minato needed something hot and preferably alcoholic, and since chugging down the whisky straight from the bottle wouldn't be advisable, he was washing it down with more coffee. When he finished he grabbed both mugs and moved to the table, leaving the redhead's in front of his. It wasn't the seat the redhead usually favored, and it wasn't the mug Daichi preferred either.

'What are you doing here?' Minato asked, dipping his little finger in the warmed up cream and licking it off, knowing it would be too hot for his mouth for some good two or three minutes still.

The redhead gave the coffee in front of him a rather snarky ironic smile; the signs had been obvious, he was not welcome here at all, nothing more than a passing and already unliked guest. He didn't sit down immediately, there was no reason for it. As much as he would like to drink the just brewed liquid, it was tad a bit too warm for his tastes. He turned his gaze at Minato - the face that used to greet him with smile, that blushed when he told him all those sweet nothings he was too smart to believe in but wanted to hear them anyway (he knew) and the face that used to be much more open than this. He was not intending to get back on the street but he was not intending to lie on that matter. The night before them seemed to be quite long. He leane on the table, making the coffee sway a little in the cup.

'I was kicked out of house.' he said with a calm and have-you-heard-the-latest-news tone '...because I was also fired from work because of slanders and thanks to that my family also turned their backs on me. I have nowhere else to go.'

'…oh, wow.' the blond said after a moment. 'Did you cross a black cat while stepping under a ladder? That's an impressive array of bad luck.'

Minato didn't want to look at the redhead and see him wearing a robe as he owned, a robe that they had often fought about because it was the only one in the department and the redhead insisted on stealing from him simply because he liked the fluffiness of it after a shower. This silly little show of casual use hurt. Instead he looked at his coffee and took a cautious sip.

Still too hot.

Daichi didn't answer that. Instead, he looked at Minato for a long pensive moment. When the silence stretched, he finally didn't hold it any longer and took the coffee in his hands. It could be too hot but the level of nervousness was getting to him. He didn't like the laconic uncaring answer. Not because he wanted the blond to fawn over him and his bad luck, because he didn't expect him to act accordingly to it. He was more worried about how he just brushed him off; just like one would brush off the man in need on the street with some blunt lie about not having money because... despite having wallet filled with coins. He drank the gulp from the cup. Hot but excellent. Even if it seemed to be much more different than the usual and much more alcoholized, it was always of the prime value. And besides, he needed the alcohol.

'...is that all are you going to say?' he muttered finally, looking at the liquid in the mug 'I need a place to stay in before I find something on my own.'

'And since your family didn't want you and your wife didn't want you, you turned up here.' he said calmly, hands shifting the coffee mug by the handle, first clockwise, then the other way around. Minato had never made claims not to be petty, and he wasn't proud enough to admit he was enjoying rattling Daichi like this.

'What were you expecting me to say, Daichi?'

To his credit, the redhead had never hidden from him the fact he was married. In the end Minato had just assumed that he was single because he didn't wear a ring, because he had shamelessly hit on him until he had agreed to see him out of job and because he always seemed to have all the time in the world to sleep over his apartment. It amazed him that they had managed to nearly hit the half year mark with him remaining completely oblivious, given the fact the redhead had never meant to hide this fact from him. The only reason he figured it out at all was because they were at a restaurant when Daichi had gotten that damned call.

The redhead had closed the phone and called for the check, simply informing him his wife had fainted on the way home from the market. And that's how he had found it. The worst part of it all was how he'd been this close to start an honest to God scene in a restaurant filled with people and Daichi had just looked at him in shock before finally mumbling he'd thought he knew.

He hadn't known what to say at that –or even what 'that' was; Daichi cheating on his wife with him, Daichi assuming he'd be all right with being 'the other' and having to share a man he was more than just a little attached to with some nameless woman, Daichi being married to a woman yet openly taking him to wherever he pleased- and the ride to his apartment had been one of the most jarring, awkward moments on his life, and that included when his mother had taken him to the dentist for just a check up that ended him with him wearing braces for the following two years.

He had wanted to stop it there, wanted to sever all ties with this man, but apparently he no longer could subsist on his own anymore, because just a week later when Daichi had knocked on his door he had let him in. He'd known all of what he said was bullshit but he had listened to him anyway and somehow allowed himself to be convinced that no, Daichi's wife couldn't possibly care too much about her husband sleeping with another man, and that everyone was happy with their share in life, ahahaha.

Then the redhead had casually commented at him that his wife was pregnant again, and that had been the last straw, find out that the man he was sleeping with not only had a wife, but also had a baby girl and a second baby on the way, and he could be many things and he could ignore many others, but he wasn't going to destroy a family.

If Daichi could, he could do that on his own. Minato wasn't going to get dragged into it.

The redhead looked at Minato while he swallowed another gulp of brownish liquid. It already burned him in his tongue, but it also shone with pleasant warmth from the inside. The spirit stung him on the back of his throat.

'To be honest, I was expecting you would let me stay here for a few days until I manage to convince my family to change their minds or if I find other way out of this.' he said, not trying the slightest to beat around the bush. There was no sense in this 'It's middle of the Autumn and I have five bucks in my pocket as all my credits cards are probably mistreated by my wife and her scissors. After all, we shared more than business cards.'

Minato nodded lightly, acknowledging the redhead's reasoning. Then he swallowed about half of the contents on his cup in a single go, not tasting it as much as desperately wanting something alcoholic burning down his throat. He wished Daichi had just said that he wanted to be with him. He wouldn't have believed that either, and he probably wouldn't have accepted it, but he still would have liked to hear those words.

'Yes.'

The hand of the redhead slowly reached out for his cup and took it out from the blond's palms.

'Thank you.' Daichi muttered as he stood them both on the table's surface 'This means a lot to me.'

And it did - not physically only, even if most of it laid on the physical side of this outcome; the mental image scared him for a moment, seeing how easily he could be thrown away by the man he grew quite fond of in the later months. His previous life plan contained marriage, two kids and a bunch of lovers, three at least to be able to change them between the days of the week. He also wanted to get woemn and men to make them all suspicious less as he never openly said that he found no difference within the fact which sex he had romance with. Minato was his first hunt and first real catch, but once he actually broke him into his charm, he didn't really feel like getting more of people into the already crowded bed. It took too much effort and too much time; and besides, Minato was comfortable - as a human being, as a physical body, as a mental state of mind. He was calm when he could spend time with him, he enjoyed his life by his thigh and shoulder. He began to enjoy far too much little nothings and little gifts that he gave others without much feeling of joy. He didn't even notice when he grew attached to the man and sometimes he wondered why he felt that way with his lover while his wife only woke up some dull, barely lukewarm spark somewhere near his reasonable part of brain. But as he didn't really ponder on this, he just left it like that. It was probably because having lovers was risky and adventurous, that's why being with Minato was so exciting while with Karura... not.

He closed the distance between them.

'It's been a long time since we saw each other lately.' he murmured, entwining his hands in front of the blond's abdomen. 'I'm happy we will be able to make up for that and spend more time together.'

Unsurprisingly to anyone who wasn't completely lacking common sense when it came to relationships, Minato pushed him away.

'It has been a long time Daichi.' the blond said almost academically, a sure sign he was well on the way to being royally pissed off at the redhead. 'And do you remember why? Here's a clue: it's because I don't want anything to do with you anymore.'

This wasn't true, but it was what truth was supposed to be if he had so much as an ounce of dignity and self preservation. It would be suicide to give anything of himself to a man who though a wife at home and a lover at the side were nothing else than what a man deserved in this world. How could the redhead just assume agreeing to keep him off the streets meant he was up and welcome again to his bed?

'I'm letting you stay *because* it is raining and *because* you have nowhere else to go, but that doesn't mean I want you back.' he sat back down, reached for his coffee and glared down at it in a way that made one wonder how the delicate mug hadn't burst from the force of the glare alone. '…you can't stay as long as you need to, but don't try to pull that on me again.'

Daichi looked at Minato in silence. Surely, he didn't expect to be pushed away ultimately, but he couldn't say he wasn't expecting a rough push. Still, it made him feel even worse, for unfathomable reasoning. Quietly, he rose his cup to the lips and drank up, lost in a thought. The blond was a bomb ready to explode at any given minute, but he was not going to be the one to unharm it. He had no tools for that. Empty mug landed back on the table's surface.

'I guess...' he whispered as he glanced at the man who was trying to bend porcelain with thoughts '...that in the end we only screwed a lot. It's saddening me that you don't seem to be missing me at all.'

And with such a plain wording, he walked out of the room. He had to unpack his poor belongings and see what he actually had with himself as he didn't waste time on the street to look through things all at once. Alcohol still warmed him pleasantly in the stomach. But he didn't feel pleased anymore. Not at all. Minato would have answered if the redhead hadn't walked away, but he did. And following him would mean he cared, which he did, but they'd kill himself before showing it.

Yes, he missed the redhead. Missed him so much he'd had to resort to actually changing his cell phone number so not only wouldn't the redhead know where to contact him other than his apartment, he also wouldn't remember Daichi's own phone and he wouldn't have to agonize over calling him or not.

Or finding out if another person would pick it instead of him. He finished the coffee in two warm, sweetish gulps, then went straight to the whiskey still sitting on the counter, and took a few tiny sips straight from the bottle.

If he told Daichi that he did miss him, the man still wouldn't understand why what he had done had hurt him so much. Hell, he hadn't even seemed to understand why Minato had decided to break up with him upon finding out he had kids. No, he'd only feel arrogantly pleased Minato had admitted it and take it as an open invitation to go back their comfortable affair. And when his wife forgave him and his family forgave him, he'd get her and him and think everything was all right in the world and everyone got what they deserved.

It would never occur to him that maybe Minato didn't to be burdened by the guilt of his wife blaming him for a ruined marriage, didn't deserve to be responsible for the unhappiness of two little kids. Or that he didn't want or ever deserve to know he had shared custody of the man he was still in love with.

Daichi on the other hand managed to finally unpack, and boy what a daft duty it was. He discovered he had three shirts with himself, accordingly five ties and five belts and a couple of socks with one without a pair. There was also a pair of jeans he left yesterday on chair to wear for working in garden as he thought they were so damaged he'd never wear them on any public meeting. Now it was all he was left with. Pretty unfunny, considering that he used to swim in quite high style of life just a few hours ago. And now he didn't even have toothbrush. With a sigh he left his things and went to bed he slept in for so many times. He fell asleep before the rightful owner could even notice where he was.

And Minato didn't notice for a while, he had to finish clearing up, what he had used for the coffee, and then he just went to his study and checked his work's mail. There was nothing of interest waiting for him there, so he just ended up pulling up a project he'd left in hiatus and half hearted started working on it.

That didn't entertain him for long, so he decided to go out to have dinner. He was about to tell the redhead this, but when he went to look for him all he saw was a lump of blankets and his bathrobe on the floor, and since Minato's impeccable breeding dictated climbing on top of bed and dragging the redhead out by the hair to be outside the socially acceptable, he settled for leaving with a slam.

He tried to forget Daichi slept like a rock and probably hadn't even noticed, and walked under the pouring rain until he found a ramen stand miserable enough to suit his mood, and proceeded to order surprisingly good Shoyu and unsurprisingly terrible beer. A gorgeous woman with a strange plum-red hair color and terrible manners started hitting on him. Somehow telling her he was gay ended up with him explaining that his ex was a cheating bastard (subsequently spent twenty minutes explaining he hadn't been cheated on –to the extent of his knowledge- but that the man had been cheating on his wife with him), that the bastard was more or less willingly being hid in his department, and as the beer (atrocious, truly, this is why he stuck to spirits) kept flowing, he ended up confessing he would probably be glad he was there if only it wasn't because he hadn't changed a bit, still didn't get why what he was doing was wrong, and oh, he was a self-centered ass.

The woman turned out to be a surprisingly good –if strongly opinionated- woman and her advice was to kick the bastard out of his apartment and save himself the trouble. It was sound advice and Minato of course thanked her and told her he would tell him he'd changed his mind and he better leave, even when probably not even the stand vendor -who had joined their conversation in the last lines to agree with the woman and give him some flayers for his stand- believed this. After exchanging mails with the woman he walked slowly back under more rain to his apartment, having decided that if Daichi wasn't up, he'd at least tell him to get out of his bed.

Of course, Daichi wasn't, and on top of that it seemed that his meowing little primadonna had recognized him, because there was a suspiciously large, purring pile of fluff precariously perched somewhere between the man's back and shoulder, rising and falling with every breath. Not for the first time, Minato wished Daichi were allergic to cats.

He lifted a corner of the heavy blankets. Yep, naked. Fucking exhibitionist.

The man would be a lot more bearable if he wasn't aware he was attractive. With a sigh Minato used the discarded robe to towel dry his hair half heartedly, pulled off his clothes, put on the loose shirts and pants he slept in and crawled into bed, both hating and being relieved by the fact his bed was more than enough to accommodate them both without him needing to push against the redhead.

Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow he'd tell him to sleep in the fucking couch.

And when the said morning came, Minato didn't even have to tell Daichi one word - the man woke up first, almost covering Minato with his whole body (suspiciously, not suffocating him) - probably one of those unconscious night poses he liked to take when he was with someone in one bed. That made him wake up - that, and the cat who went mysteriously missing the day before and who immediately ran up to him with starring and poking when it came to the first meal. He fed it first, walking around as naked as he only could be - and that was once again nothing new, he did it a lot when he had a good night with Minato, and then went to clean up himself a bit. He was happy that as a lover, Minato still kept the leftover cologne and shaver he brought there once (even if he really had to search through the shelves to find them), so he didn't have to walk around with reddish shadow over his face. Then he took the remnants of his clothes he wore and went to the kitchen to make one of the very few foods he could make on his own (wives and restaurants were for anything more complicated) - scrambled eggs with tomatoes and mushrooms. Not because he liked mushrooms, but because he found them in the fridge. He made it extra large, just in case if Minato wanted to eat some too, and then forgot about eating his own half-way as he saw that the rain was still pouring outside. With a sigh, he turned off the almost done water in the kettle and went to fetch himself some of yesterday's rum. Alcohol in the morning wasn't what one should have drank, but so was being homeless, jobless and void of ideas. Quietly, he picked up the cat and held it on his shoulder as he kept on feeding himself lukewarm rum in scarce amounts. He didn't want to get drunk. Not yet anyway.

Minato, who contrary to popular belief (his own) would likely also sleep through the Armageddon, didn't wake up as much as grunt something and roll on the recently vacated warm spot in bed, nearly disappeared under the covers. As a graphic designer of some popularity, Minato had the advantage of being able to generally work from home and pick his schedule so long as nothing big was brewing, and with the last project having been delivered, he was free to lounge and nitpick around the lacking-pressure smaller jobs.

In the meantime Minato's cat was more than happy to keep him company. Largely because his owner was one of those nitpicks who only brought balanced food and kept to diets, while Daichi was overindulgent and often snuck tidbits of his meal to the feline, which as many people know, did wonders for endearing such animals to new people. Yuan was likely the ugliest, most evilest-looking cat Mother Nature could have decided to use to extend repertoire, with thick fur just so he could make sure it would show on whatever sort of clothing his owner wore and a single thin, yellow eye permanently half closed in the very picture of animal glare.

He was also just about the sweetest, most trusting and affectionate thing in this world and so Minato wasn't really surprised to find the thing sprawled belly up on the redhead's legs, sounding for the world like an old car motor, having recently grown bored of playing parrot.

'Morning.' he said lightly, seeing the cat, his ex and the bottle the other was sipping from in only two blinks, before looking at the leftovers waiting for him in the pan. He tried not to think how nice it was to have someone spoiling him a bit again. Daichi answered only with a rise of the bottle in the air, clearly indicating he was going to drink for it and any other things too. That, followed of course, with another sip from the bottle.

'It's raining cats and dogs.' he muttered as he threaded the fur of the animal, not very carefully, but it seemed that the furry enjoyed it just as much if sounds were any indication. 'If it wasn't for the clock I wouldn't be even able to tell if it's morning or not. The rest of the food is for you.'

Obviously, he meant also the not finished plate that stood on the table. He was already done with it.

'Thanks for letting me stay, I'd probably drown if you'd kick me out.'

Minato's expression darkened slightly, easily recognizing the redhead's not too subtle attempt at emotional blackmail. He hated the facility he used it, and that was probably the reason he'd made a successful business, where being a cutthroat was appreciated. Not enough not to fire him, though. he fought back the childish urge to rip the cat from his lap in retaliation- the little furry traitor looked to be in abject bliss.

'Isn't it a little too early to start hitting the bottle?' he asked instead, slowly approaching and pulling the dark brown bottle to inspect the brand, even though he already recognized it. To tell the truth both of them drank often and not exactly lightly, either. But they could hold they liquor and rarely if ever got actually drunk. Even so, he'd never seen the redhead start alcohol intake before midday, much less without glass being involved.

'Did you call your family?' he looked up from the brand and out of the window - it seemed this would also be miserable day.

'I wanted something to numb me down before I would have to hit the bay with my family again.' said Daichi, giving up on the bottle easily. He still didn't want to get drunk and he already had his share of it, now he was just tasting it for the sake of doing something. To help him not to think. 'It's too early to phone gran's house. Or too late. I don't know.'

Black eyes looked finally at the blond as the redhead let go of the cat, who seemingly found its place where it was and didn't want to move. Not that he wanted it to. Minato didn't really change during that time he didn't see him - and it was somehow sweet in all this unstableness, the steady ground he provided. He was happy he chose him for his lover. Many others would probably kick him out of this place before he'd count to three. And in those pants and loose shirt he looked especially attractive - maybe not lustful, but cuddly, and he was all up for that.

'Come here.' he muttered as he called for him with hand gesture. Minato turned from studying the window to look at the redhead- at his hand, his body, the relaxed gesture. As if he fully expected him to take the hand and climb to his lap like the cat did, like he himself had done countless times before. Without doubting for a second he'd say no.

'What for?' he asked instead, not moving from his place and making no movement that indicated he was even contemplating doing so in the near future.

The redhead looked back with the blank face, then turned the hand down to mess the fur on the laying animal again.

'Because you look nice and I wanted to give you a kiss. We used to do it sometimes.' he said, seeing that Minato didn't agree with him in one bit. It seemed he was still mad at him upon one thing or another, probably this 'family breaking' thing. He wasn't very sure about it, but he didn't want to bother. His marriage was going down and kids... he doubted he would be a good father to them anyway. 'Come here. I missed you.'

The blond bristled at the words as if the redhead had downright insulted him. Probably because he had, not that he seemed to realize it. It sometimes amazed, how the man could be so self centered as to blind him so utterly to the feelings of others, as if they were nuisance only to be considered when he was feeling indulgent or bored.

'…were you listening at all when I told I didn't want you back last night, or did you thought I was just playing coy?' Minato said, and for some reason he sounded sad rather than angry. Sad and tired. He had missed Daichi too, in that horrible, all-consuming way he hadn't since he had been sixteen. He'd spent more hours than he could count (certainly more hours than the redhead deserved) wondering how could Daichi had cared so little for him, how he could have just assumed Minato wouldn't mind having to share him with some nameless woman he had just learn not only had existed all along, but also had preceded him and gotten two kids out of Daichi. One that had to be conceived while they were together.

And she was his wife, of course he'd fuck her. What he didn't understand was how could he had slept with either of them without so much as stopping to think what he was doing wasn't right to anyone involved.

'I listened to you. Doesn't mean I didn't miss you either way.' said the redhead slowly, looking back at Minato 'You can tell me you don't want me, that doesn't stop me from wanting you. Do you really think emotions are so controllable? I'm not a remote control that can switch off any time.'

But he didn't make any move besides slight turn of the head. Mostly because he had cat on his lap, but also because he knew, that if he'd try to corner the man now, he'd probably beat his face in some way and that was the last thing he needed. He wasn't sure how to explain to the blond he had for some time thought that the man knew - and that he had agreed with it as much as he had agreed with having both a wife and a lover. It was a beneficial romance, the stuff that fed all his family didn't want to give him. He only found problematic the fact he started liking more and more spending time with Minato than at home and that sometimes he wondered what would it be if the roes had switched; he'd probably dump such a lover as Karura, she was not that good. Would he cheat on Minato? He didn't know. That's why it was a bit shocking when it came out that Minato had such high ethic standards. But was he supposed to lie? He wasn't sorry for what he did, even if he knew it wasn't morally acceptable. He was just that kind of man - hedonistic. It would be easy to just throw away the things that didn't agree with him, but he grew emotionally attached and that's where the problems begun. He could lie, but he knew he wouldn't be sincere and that it wouldn't be enough for Minato. Could he demand acceptance for what's happened? He doubted it; the blond seemed to be too far within disgust for his two-timing and he seemed to be one of those few princes charming that loved one woman for their whole life. A bit sad, really. It would be easier to dump him, but he didn't want to. What was he supposed to do? He didn't know. Explaining once again that he thought he knew was beyond the point, Minato wanted to see regret in him and need for atonement, which he didn't feel. He could only be sorry for that it made Minato leave from his life. It was no way out, really.

'...you won't change what's happened. But I would lie if I told you that's enough for me. I want you back in my life again.'

Minato winced and turned away, walking to the open kitchen and nearly collapsing on the chair. The bottle was left on top of the table, momentarily forgotten ad Minato brushed a hand over his face as he often did after spending several hours in front of the computer screen. It all came back to the fact Daichi was convinced this still was all about him and that what he'd done was awwright with the world. He couldn't understand how someone who could sit there and claim to want him and miss him, looking like if he meant these things he wished he could believe in still could also basically tell him he wanted back to what they had had, wife included.

Silence settled.

After a few moments Yuan seemed to finally realize the petting had stopped and cracked his single eye open in a fearsome expression, quickly followed by a pathetic meow. It seemed to be the cat version of 'what, you done?', followed by light pawing at the nearest hand.

'And do you think I am?' he asked suddenly, his voice not terribly loud, but emotional and startling after the long period of silence. 'Do you think I can ever be okay with what you do? Do you even know why I'm angry?'

Daichi looked down at his lap, where the one eyed feline looked at him questioningly with one eye. He smiled lightly and bitterly.

'Sorry, princess, we will continue some other time.' he murmured and quietly put the cat down. A moment later, he got up from his seat too.

'You're angry because you discovered that you're not in the relationship that you supposed to be like. Which meant, a partnership of two without intrusion from the outside.' said Daichi as he walked to the blond, his hands in his pockets. He didn't like the way the man sat, it didn't suit his cheerful mood, it hurt in a way he didn't want it to hurt. He wondered if he could try to hug him consolingly, but he kept away; he didn't want to get bruised over the issues 'I thought you were okay with what I did and it was a grave misunderstanding. I don't know why are you still angry, I'm not with that family anymore.'

Not for long anyway. He doubted that it wouldn't end up in divorce.

Minato looked up at him, expression guarded and resentful the way an animal that had trusted you and been roughly kicked without reason was: for a moment he seemed to consider the distance between them, but in the end he just went past the redhead with a light shake of head, as if it were a lost cause. He didn't shy away or push him, there was no need. He simply walked past the redhead and went to his room.

It took him less than five minutes to reappear, wearing dark jeans and pulling a loose pullover over the sleeping shirt he hadn't bothered changing from. He stopped a few feet away from the redhead, looking at him straight to the eyes for a few moments, before speaking, voice soft and cool.

'Yes, to all that. I'm mad because of all of those things. I'm mad because I loved you and I can't believe knowing that you'd still think I could ever be okay with knowing you are making a family and keeping me as some sort of glorified side dish. Do I really have such little value? That I don't have any sort of sense of self worth? Or did you think that just the fact that you are with me would be compensation enough? Did you even stop to think about any of this, ever? You've known me for over half a year and you tell me you couldn't even stop for a moment and wonder how I could take something like that so easily?'

He shook his head, finally breaking eye contact and taking a few steps back, collapsing on the couch.

'I'm not some masochistic teenager you can satisfy with leftovers. I'm not perfect, but I think I at least deserve someone who thinks I'm- I'm enough.' there was an emphasis, an accent in this last word, as if it didn't quite fit in the rest of the sentence, like if it's significance came from a different dictionary. He covered it up by leaning over and furiously starting to work on the laces of his boots, tying them quickly and tight enough it looked as if he were trying to strangle someone instead of just securing shoes.

'…if you really want to know why I'm 'still angry'- as you put it- is really quite simple, Daichi. It's because you aren't here because you want me. It's because you wife doesn't and neither does your family. I'm just. Convenient. Like microwaved fast food.' he chuckled at this, not because he thought any of this was funny, just because he needed to stop before his voice went shaky and broke down completely. And here he'd thought this was complicated. It seemed he was better with words than he thought because this, exactly all of this he had finally stopped biting back and was finally being saying was the problem. 'If you want perspective, ask yourself how would you like to find out I'm the one with a wife and two kids, that all the time I've given you was what was left when I wasn't giving it to someone else. If *that*, if nothing else bothers you, there's your answer. If you don't…'

He stopped, fiddling with the end of the laces for a moment.

'I guess that's 'mine', not 'my answer.'

He finished tucking the laces inside the knot so they wouldn't come lose and got up, picking up the jacket he had discarded the previous night and slipping it on as he walked towards the door, ignoring the plaintive meows following him.

'I'm going out. You should call your family.' he said as he pulled the locks off the door and opened it, stopping at the frame. 'Your keys are in the fruit bowl. If you straighten things up and leave before I get back, just leave them in the mailbox.'

Minato didn't slam the door this time, just closed it with a soft click. His hair was a mess, but the rain would take care of that in a minute. Brushing his teeth would require finding a convenience store and maybe even sneaking into the bathroom, but if nothing else, he had a lot of time to kill.

Daichi looked quietly at the door and listened to the steps outside. One after another, they vanished on the rainy street. Slowly, he kept breathing.

What could he say - those were very good questions. And questions he didn't think about before, because... he didn't know why. He didn't try to even analyze his life properly. And now he was very clearly being told to get out, that it was favored to get out, that it would be better that once the blond would be back he wouldn't be here. He looked at the rainy grey window and then at the bottle of rum again. Without a word he took it and started drinking from it again.

'I really screwed up this, didn't I...' he asked himself after the third gulp. The pitiful meow answered him from the floor but he didn't pet the cat in the answer. He didn't have willpower to move.

'I thought...' he muttered, looking at the floor, to no one in particular 'I thought we were the same.'

Would he mind if Minato was married at the beginning of their relationship? Probably not; why would he? They'd be doing things for exactly same reasons and that was benefit. Would he mind it later? He couldn't say he would be ignoring it. Once he grew attached, he also grew observant and quite possesive. He would mind probably. How much? He wasn't sure. But he knew he wouldn't step down. When he wanted something, he kept it, even if only partially. That's the way he was.

Sip.

Minato didn't take the umbrella. Where would he go in such weather? He would get sick. Who'd take care of sick man living with a single-eyed cat? He didn't remember meeting any member of his family before. This was not wise of Minato to do.

Sip.

Convenience. Was it not it from the beginning? Actually, yes it was. From even earlier - he wanted lovers because lovers were convenient - easy to access, happy with whatever he gave them and not bothersome. And Minato became more than convenient - he was a stable ground. It wasn't a fun thing he liked from time to time, it was a disturbing thing he needed for the most of the time. But what was so bad in convenience, dammit? People lived and worked for it. That's why money were invented. Dammit, Minato.

Sip.

It was obvious, Minato was angry and jealous; he didn't want convenience, he wanted attention, and a sole attention. He wanted to be the only one in his life to not feel kicked in his 'self-worth' as he said it. He wasn't the same as he was.

What could he say to that? He felt disappointed and hurt. And let down. It wasn't that kind of lover he searched for. But now, it wasn't a person he could live without for very long either. What a twisted way life had to stomp over his ideology.

Sip.

He looked at the cat.

'If gran calls, tell her I will be coming to her house, no matter if she opens me or not.' he muttered 'Before that, I have to at least explain a few things to your poor silly master.'

He closed the cloak over himself and took the umbrella. Indeed, the key was where it was always laying.

Dammit, Minato. Dammit.

He didn't have luck finding Minato. It wasn't like if the blond had given any clue of where he was going, not having one himself at all. As he'd suggested himself he had found a convenience store and went to the dispenser machine that gave cutesy, tiny, pocket sized toothbrushes for one dollar, then proceeded to spend five until he got the blue one he wanted, leaving the other four on top of the machine still in the wrapper in case anyone else wanted them.

He bought himself some cigarettes, found out that all this urban legends about these sucking when you'd spent years having quit were true, then bought himself some tic tacs to wash the flavor off. He consumed half the package in one go, and he was still noisily munching in when he did something he hadn't since before finishing college- He entered a McDonalds.

He was surprised to find the place nowhere near as seizure induced as it have been in his childhood. There where bright, pop-artish squares of wallpaper, red and black thin chairs and the coffeehouse part was actually even pretty.

Sure, it was magazine copied stylistics and the tables were from fake wood, but still a far cry from the garish orangey brown from his childhood. He wasn't really hungry, but he wanted to eat, as strange as that sounded. The idea of being disappointed by bad coffee was too much to bear, so he ended up asking for tea, put enough sugar on it to kill any resemblance of taste and used it to drown out two ridiculously overpriced chocolate muffins and a somewhat gigantic chocolate-chip cookie.

Daichi entered the same place exactly forty seven minutes later.

Not that he didn't think about it before - he was quite sure that Minato couldn't be sitting in the rain with empty stomach (the breakfast he made was probably only good for cat's food anyway). But he tried to be smart and ran around bus stops, a nearby park and even some lonely sidewalks. When he entered the McDonalds it was when he was quite cold and had enough of walking around. Besides, he wanted something warm to drink before going to engage into another path of searching. He didn't notice him at first, counting up the bucks from his wallet as he walked up to the counter. Only when the steamy cup was offered to him, he noticed the glint of blond hair and he knew where he was going to sit. Even if Minato didn't want it.

'I came here after you, and if you walk out of here I'm going to trail you until you finally stop and listen to me.' he announced as he sat down, the umbrella near him making a mess on the floor. Then he resorted to silent drinking. The tea was awful but warm. McDonald's quality. '...you forgot to take umbrella with you.'

'…I didn't feel like if I needed one.' The blond replied quietly around a mouthful of white frozen cream mixed in with bits of Oreo cookies. Because that's exactly what it was. In the time the redhead had taken to appear Minato had eaten a cheeseburger, counter red cars going down the street, and finally decided misery had a horrible sweet tooth because he somehow still had room for ice cream. He was almost afraid of calculating the calorie intake he'd consumed in the past almost hour, and briefly considered going vegan for a week or two if he didn't want to end up in the coronary's ward before turning thirty four.

But damn, this ice cream was tasty in ways gelato and pricey, top quality, non-conservers laden ice cream could be.

'I don't really feel like talking either.'

'Then don't talk. But I need to tell you a few things so at least open your ears.' said the redhead, observing as the man stuffed himself with something that couldn't be good for him in any way and entwined his hands tightly. If it was to be good, he had to focus. 'I thought about what you said and as much as I want, I can't deny I'm selfish; so was my reason for approaching you and keeping you nearby - my ulterior motives that didn't really include your needs. I thought you knew what you were getting yourself into and agreed to it out of more or less similar reasons.'

A pause. Some red Volvo passed near the window. He didn't toss it a glance, even if it was eye-catching.

'However, as the time passed by, I've got fond of you. In a way I shouldn't have if I wanted to keep my life the way it was, but I couldn't help it. You had enchanted me on the way down here and even if it disturbs me and stabs me in my life plan, it's undeniable.'

Another pause. He noticed his hands shook slightly, but he didn't let his hands fall out of the clasp.

'...what am I saying is that I learned to love spending the time with you and you, not that it holds any importance now. Even if I wanted I couldn't careless now and believe me, it would be very convenient to forget about you. And I'm a man of convenience, as you know.'

Someone had passed near the windows. It was a woman. Wore high heels. He didn't see them, it was just the sound they made on the street.

'The thing is, that now I love you, I want your happiness. So if I'm a hindrance, I will move away, because it was definitely a bad match here. You deserve to meet someone who will stay with you for you only, unlike me. I can promise you change, but I know you'd never believe me. That wouldn't be good for you. And...'

He wondered if he could reach out for the man now... and stopped wondering and just did it. If he was to be tossed off, he deserved it anyway. he was not fifteen, he could take rejection.

Minato's hand was warm under his chilly fingers.

'I'm sorry I caused you so much pain. I won't do this anymore; I just wanted to make that clear before we say goodbye.'

He let go of him. There was no need to hold onto it any longer. He stood up, leaving the poor amount of his wallet on the table.

'It might look like I'm paying you, but it's not. It's all I can give you right now and even if you deserve much more, and I'm sorry for that too. You can try getting something else for that. When you finish it, I probably won't be in your house anymore. I will leave the key in the janitor's care. Don't forget the umbrella this time.'

Quietly, the object was laid on the table too. After taking the tea with him, the redhead quickly walked out of the restaurant.

Minato didn't pull his hand away, even though he jumped a little at the contact. Daichi's fingers felt like rubbery icicle's which was strange because the man was generally something like a walking hot water bottle, which hadn't made summer easier on him with the man's tendency to try to climb on top of him in his sleep. How long had he been out in the rain looking for him?

He concentrated on this because what Daichi was saying made him both embarrassed and uncomfortable- Daichi didn't need to talk about ulterior motives or selfishness. Minato had known he was self-centered and selfish from the beginning, it was something he had not only noticed about his character and somehow even liked, and when he'd said he thought Minato had known all along he was married, he had believed him.

If he'd been less of an idiot he would have actually asked if the redhead was in a significant relationship of any kind, he was sure someone would have known and told him, but the truth was it just didn't occur to him to ask, everything in the man's behavior told him he couldn't possibly have someone to care for on the side… and in a twisted way that was true. It was his fault he hadn't figured it out on his own and his hurt pride over it.

He didn't stop the redhead from leaving, even if he wanted to tell him to take the stupid umbrella because he was wearing those stupid jeans with a dressing shirt and jacket, which meant he hadn't been smart enough to just take something a bit more appropriate for the weather from his apartment- he hoped he'd at least take a shower before leaving.

He didn't want him to leave. Not really, not at all- if this mess hadn't gone down the way it did, he would have asked Daichi to move in with him by now.

Because he had somehow learned to stand all those annoying quirks that also made him want to kill him, like how he always stole his bathrobe instead of just getting his own, how he always left messes in the kitchen, how he spoiled Yuan with unbalanced food and was perfectly capable of waking him up or interrupting his work just to demand some specific type of coffee he always had to have now and not ten minutes later.

Because he liked how the redhead said he liked *his* bathrobe better than a new one, how if he messed the kitchen it was because he knew he was too tired to do anything himself so he was trying to help, how his poor, ugly cat adored the redhead and how when he complained about the redhead being a demanding bastard he'd answer it was his fault for being so good at what he did. Because he had learnt to love of this silly, stupid things.

He wanted to believe Daichi. He wanted to think he meant all these things and that he really did love him as much as the redhead was loved by him, as disgustingly gushy as it sounded. He also didn't want to trust the redhead and have him make a fool of himself when he came back with his wife. Daichi had the connections to land a job as good as the last one if only he used a bit of influence from his family, right? His wife would take him back.

He also didn't want Daichi out in the rain until that happened, but if they were going to remain separated he couldn't just tell him to stay, could he? They'd end up wrapped together again and he couldn't… or maybe he could… but he didn't want to, did he?

He looked down at the melting goop in the styrofoam cup and quickly stirred it, trying to finish the frozen treat before it'd be a lost cause.

He loved him. Daichi had said a lot of times that he cared for him and he hadn't really believed any of them, but at the time they had been… well, in context. They had been said to seduce him, to flatter him, to get into his good graces or his pants (not that there was much difference in either), but he wasn't getting anything about saying it now. And the redhead was horribly selfish, but he had no reason to knowingly hurt him.

He could just as easily has just said they wanted different things and they should move on- as he said, Minato wasn't what he wanted, what with the whole monogamy.

He didn't know what to think, so he made a remarkable effort of trying not to. He went to the cinema, watched a movie with a giant naked glowing superhero then sneaked around to another theater just to see if he'd get caught. He didn't, and as punishment he had to watch an interminable German movie that was either too smart for him or plain boring.

By the time he got back home he was surprised to see that the kitchen was clean, the leftovers safely beneath a platter to Yuan couldn't get to it, and the meager things the man had brought with him were gone. The bed was still unmade, and that's where he crawled, unfortunate-looking kitty-cat in tow. Clock told him he'd been away about seven hours.

Maybe he'd already patched things out with his family. Maybe he was even back in his own house with the woman he had an actual legal binding to.

Or maybe he was out where the rain had died to a light drizzle and painfully cold wind.

'Fuck.'

He reached for the phone.

Daichi had been actually hesitant about picking it up. Surely, after he left the house, cleaned it like he rarely did in his life, took care of everything he should have - he didn't want to get back to it only to pick up his toothbrush or anything like that. He had been sitting in the train station for yet another hour - the place being actually a nice shield from the rain and wind - ad waited for who knows what. His family still didn't pick up his phones and he didn't want to retort to begging Karura yet. Two trains passed him, losing the opportunity of traveling somewhere away as long as he could without getting caught with empty wallet. He hadn't seen a point in that though. Out there he would be just as homeless as in the spot he was currently. It was funny how his life crumbled down in one day.

After fifth ring of the phone he finally picked it up.

'Keep the shaver.' he muttered 'Sell it to the poor or something. I'm too far away to pick it up now.'

Minato sighed, annoyance and relief in a neat little package that smelled like the leftover tic tacs he'd had.

'Where are you?'

Daichi looked out from the window. It was a rainy day still. Probably a cloud broke down somewhere up there. He quietly breathed into the receiver.

'What does it matter?' he said finally 'I don't want you to bring it here. Throw it away.'

'So you didn't patch up things up with your family yet.' the blond stated calmly. Daichi frowned over the sentence.

'I'm hanging up.'

He had been assuming, but this sort of answer told him everything he needed to know. Daichi was outside somewhere without a red cent and considering he hadn't brought an umbrella after leaving Minato's, probably soaked to the bone.

'Okay. Hang up and get back here.'

It took the redhead a whole five seconds of silence before he could actually click the button with red dot. Quietly, he looked out through the window again. It was a downpour and he didn't have anything with himself still, including the poorest of umbrellas. He didn't know what Minato would want from him, but then, he didn't really need to know. If the blond was telling him to come back...

He smiled quietly to himself. His luggage wasn't that heavy after all. Without glancing back, he stepped out into the whispering rain and walked down the road to the only known destination.

Minato had somehow refrained from calling the redhead back for whole thirty-five minutes, trying to assume the man had surely been following orders and not just... being stupid and succumbing to pneumonia on some dark hangar away from prying eyes. At that point he tired of worrying for nothing and hit the redial button.

The familiar tune filtered somewhere down the hallway, and Minato stared for all of two seconds before opening the front door to find the redhead pulling his cell phone out of his soaked jacket.

'...where the hell did you go?'

Daichi looked at his phone only to hide it in the jacket again.

'Here and there, trying to catch the last train on my way home.' he said, climbing up the last steps and walking up to the blond '...so you better have some really good shaver waiting for me now because I missed it on my way here.'

Minato gave the redhead a troubled frown, thinking he looked a bit like a cat that had been dunked on the stream without much cooperation on his part. The troubling part was how much he wanted to hug him.

'You shouldn't have left if you didn't have a place to go,' he said instead, pulling him into the department before closing the door behind him and locking it. Yuan immediately trotted close to inspect his favorite's return, but shied away when it turned out it was a bit wetter than he had been lead to expect.

'Meow.'

'You are soaked.' Minato said, taking the redhead's bag and tossing it to the welcome mat where it would make less of a mess with all the dripping water and started on the redheads jacket. It was just a poor excuse so he could touch the other a bit, but he'd take it right now.

The redhead didn't protest or oppose in any way to any of Minato's actions. Yuan was completely ignored as for now. He had already said goodbyes to the cat, saying hello now was unnecessary. He looked down at Minato with the uneven face.

'Does that mean that I can stay?'

Minato stopped what he was doing, for once annoyed by the fact Daichi was shorter than him- looking down only meant he'd look *at* him, not avoid his eyes.

'I had already told you that you could.'

Some very little, almost invisible insignificant muscle twitched lightly on Daichi's face, the only sign of that he registered what Minato said. After a one long and unnecessary moment where the buttons were finally undone, the redhead suddenly moved forward, pushing the blond right onto the wall and pictures that hanged on it, closing his mouth with needy kiss. Goddamn, he loved that man.

For a moment the blond nearly tripped on his own cat, but fortunately for everyone involved Yuan had retained enough knowledge of human's lack of accurate navigational skills to flee from under their feet in time to avoid disaster. He hit the wall lightly, feeling wet cold seeping through the front of his shirt as the redhead pinned him there, and all he did was tilt his head the right way so he could return the kiss.

'You are freezing.' he muttered against the other's lips, hands reaching up and burying in the darkened hair, both stroking the other's scalp and pulling him closer.

'And you're dripping hot.' muttered Daichi against the warm moist lips as he angled his head the other way to kiss Minato some more. He didn't want it to end up in lustful way, not really. He just didn't know how to react without use of words to all pent up emotionality in his chest.

'That doesn't make much sense.' The blond chuckled after breaking the kiss, forehead pressed against the redhead while his fingers played with the soaked strands of dark red, trailed them down his jaw and up the lobes of ear where tiny white points signaled healed over holes from earrings he'd stopped wearing years ago. Three on the left and five on the right, he knew without needing to touch or look. 'You are the only one dripping here. Go that that shower before you catch your death.'

Daichi returned the smile, letting himself to linger some more to let the fingers freely roam around his scalp. It was a pleasing feeling and he was not letting go of it that easily. But then, he was not going to catch a cold on purpose when he could avoid it.

'Yes, your majesty.' he muttered as he stole one more kiss and walked away toward the shower, leaving trail of wet footprints made by his feet and his socks.

Minato looked at the floor, rolled his eyes and leaned down to smooth out Yuan's ruffled fur.

In a moment he'd go turn on the espresso machine, and maybe when it was ready he'd look up at his book of recipes and make something really special. Perhaps then he'd find the mop and clean this mess, then put Daichi's clothes to dry. And if the redhead was still in the shower by then, it might be sensitive to join him because his clothes were all wet thanks to him and he didn't want a cold either.

Maybe they'd have dinner then, or maybe just go to bed, but that was less important and so was whatever happened tomorrow. Right now he was just going to let himself enjoy the fact Daichi was back here and hope it lasted.


	11. Arashi talE

The first time they met, Daichi was lost and Minato found him. He had just gotten It from his grandmother, that's how he had known. She had poured IT in his mouth from her own, from her chest and Minato slept for days and when he woke up, he knew a boy with hair the color of blackened roses was lost in the woods, and that he would die in a day's time if left to the woods. He didn't know what the boy thought of him, because the words that fell from his mouth were scathing and tinged with the accent of those that came from far away, but he ignored the aggressive tone, and despite the fact he was so much younger, when he took his hand, the redhead followed.

That was also the first time he met Daichi's father. He brought Daichi all the way back to his house, or more like once he finally recognized the terrain, the redhead had dragged him to his. He had managed to pry his hand off just as the door opened and the older man stared at them, dark eyes digging first on his son and then on the younger child, zeroing in the yellow hair. Minato held the look for maybe a second before turning around and bolting, the life resting in his chest twisting uneasily. Then, for a while, he forgot about it.

There was much to learn, much to do. He didn't have time to play like he did before, even if all he does now is one big play - he eats the berries and shuns the blood, and the animals allow him in places humans don't go, the very earth answers to his call. He waded through uncharted territory in a bright red hood, from his grandmother's house and back to his mother's. The second time he meets Daichi, he is in his house, and he's run off. Daichi's father summoned his mother, and they talk now, low, angry words full of threat and promises. He still doesn't understand them, but knows well enough what his mother thinks- the man he can't read. He is the Arashi, the new one. He does what he must.

Slowly he detaches himself from his mother's skirts and wonders off, feeling the eyes glued to his back. He doesn't wonder what they are saying or how his mother knows the man's language, he just wants to be away. The man lets him. He has his mother and knows the boy can't stray far. It's while he wonders he finds the redhead, also on his own.

The boy sat on the verge of a big pond and kept on throwing stones to the water. From time to time, the stone would jump up from the surface and make a braid of sploshes until drowning. He seemed to not notice the little blond boy until he actually came close. But even by then he seemed to be not surprised by the fact he was there. Too much of strange events happened in his life to be so easily taken aback.

Once he was very small, his grandmother taught him the things his parents forbade him to believe in, like the fact that the forest was full of little red riding hoods that could charm your appearance or that not every plant on earth could be grown by a human. From time to time he saw little fairies which disguised themselves as butterflies and bugs, and even once he saw a nymph.

That day was especially memorable in his head diary, as it was also the first time he killed the nymph. Some things were beautiful, too beautiful to let them be, as it was unfair to other beings. That's why, the soup he made from roses was of the best quality, because he chose the best flowers, his clothes was made from the most beautiful skins as he chased only the wealthiest animals and his weapons shined with the best steels and chromes.

And when he saw that he became the best among his class, he pierced out his own eye. The fake one he put in, was of course, the best.

'Hello there.' he said in a clear, still boyish, but obviously nearing to the manliness voice 'I greet you among my side. I haven't seen you for years.'

The younger boy cocked his head to the side, his expression uncertain. To him the boy's words were non-threatening but still intangible blur of smoothed out r's and oddly accented consonants.

'…Daichi.' he answered instead, lips curling into a warm smile. He liked the name. It reminded him of fruit. The eye was a new addition and like Daichi's father, nothing he could read off. He wasn't sure he liked it- no. He didn't like it, but the older boy was there, so he moved closer anyway.

'Yes, that's my name.' said the redhead, content about the fact that his name was known and remembered even by minions he hadn't seen for a long time. He threw yet another stone into the pond, creating a big circle of waves. 'You're interesting. Why don't you ever come to town, to play with others?' Only now he turned his head and started observing the boy closely. He was having nice blond hair and a pair of nice blue eyes. The skin he had also looked nice, unmarred with dots or pimples.

Nice person. But he saw nicer people. The blond was not a pursue worth going after. People like first prince of the kingdom – were.

'Is it because of the forest? I heard that there are human eating wolves there.' He also desired a skin if the wealthiest animal. Legends said that the one who ate the first red riding hood was still alive and waited for the thousandth hunter who'd pierce through his heart. Daichi wanted to be the thousandth hunter and the first survivor.

'…Wohlz?' the younger boy repeated, the uncertain smile still on his face as he shook his head softly, trying to convey the fact he still didn't understand what the other was talking about. He still like the sound of his voice, it was just a pity he couldn't really get the meaning behind the words.

The redhead blinked, then smiled to himself. Right. Not everyone knew the same language on the world. Living in such a big great town like his made him forget that from time to time. He pointed at himself.

'Daichi.' he said simply and then pointed at the blond. There was no way the boy wouldn't understand something like this. The blond nodded obediently. Of course he knew who Daichi was- he had known even before he had even seen him. Daichi was the person he was supposed to meet. It hadn't occurred o him the other wouldn't know his name, though. He opened his mouth to speak, but doubted at the last second, turning to give an uncertain look behind his shoulder. His name was no longer his own to give. To say it would be to give a word of power to someone he didn't even know.

'Arashi.' he said instead. His title and his new name.

'Arashi. Nice name.' said the boy and smiled, only to lay back on the grass. With one eye, the world looked the same, but the perspective changed. He didn't mind any aspects of that, even if it had some disadvantages. All things on the world had them. He looked at one cloud. People said they could tell what it was. He couldn't. He never did.

'Did you know there are wizards on this world? People who can do magic. Woosh.' he said, taking some stick and pointing it like a wand, only to throw it away 'They say they hide deep in the caves and on the highest mountains… but it's said that our king has a witch for advisor. I wonder if she could teach me magic if I asked her… my grandma taught me some things, but it wasn't the same.'

And really, it was boring. Who cared about such things as math and Pythagoras when you could take weapons and kill enemies? Who cared about potions, meds and herbs when you could pierce them with arrows? There was no better way to get fame than to kill the tribe. He wondered if he could become a king. It was something he could do. He turned back to the blond. 'They also say she is exceptionally beautiful… I wonder how she is like.'

Ambivalence of that problem never really touched him though. Minato smiled again, sitting next to the older boy and wrapping his arms around his legs, the long sleeves of his cloak swallowing his lower half in pools of vibrant red. He didn't know why, but Daichi kept thinking of his mother, only not a in bad way, like most people of the town did. He didn't really mind it. His voice was still so nice, something that was like stroking the creature residing in his chest, something that made it want to curl and purr.

He might have found it strange before, but not now. Everything had a reason to be in this world, and if he wanted to sit here and listen to the other talk, then that was what he was supposed to do. After a few moments, he relaxed further, resting his head on his bent knees and closing his eyes to find it easier to gather what the other could be talking about. It surprised him to find it was of weapons and blood. Hard pointed steel and cutting blades, thoughts of blood and violence. It didn't seem right. All the thoughts he was having were wrong and he tried to tell him so, reaching for his hand like he had in the forest and gripping it lightly.

'Daichi-' he started a second time, straining t force his thoughts into the other, force the understanding of the words- like he could, like all the ones before him had been able to-

'Arashi!' the boy was on his feet again and away the next instant, having bolted like a scared doe at the violence of the tone. His mother stood at the door, an older version of Minato with the same golden hair hanging down to her waist in a thick plaited braid and green eyes, her face pale beneath the angry flush on her cheeks. Her hands were fisted at her sides, barely hidden by the fold of her red cloak and he wasn't sure if they shook because of fear or fury.

'Mama…' And now the man was behind her. Daichi's father. He looked at the forest, wondering if he should run like he had last time, and when he looked back his mother upon him, a strong hand wrapping around his wrist and yanking hard. For a terrible moment he was sure she meant to drag him into the house and leave him with the man, but Kaede merely pulled him in the same direction they had come from, her feet quick and light on the grass. The last thing he saw before the forest swallowed them was the yellow eye on Daichi's face. The color was wrong, but they looked the same as his father's.

The redheaded boy looked after him until he vanished in the forest. He didn't understand the case of such happenings but didn't question them. He rarely did.

'Daichi.' he heard behind him out of sudden. The voice was harsh but this time the sharp edge of it sounded like a clang of the sharpest sword. He got up, looking at him and ran up to the his stance. The man was big, strong and never feared anything. He wanted to be like him.

'Father.' he said with respect, and then turned back to look at the forest one more time 'Who were they?'

'It doesn't matter.' said the man and then grabbed his child by the arm. 'Those are not people you should talk to. You are a warrior. Once day you will find yourself a good woman and you will make a strong son, just like yourself. Not some… some… freak.'

Daichi nodded, even if he didn't understand what was this about. He knew since always that father thought of him as a warrior, even if he saw himself as a noble, prince, tsar even. He didn't mind being a warrior. He liked weapons. He liked the smell of blood, the smell of victory. He liked how it bested him.

'All right, father.' he said. And then he went into the forest and killed the most beautiful hare, the fertile mother who had three kits. They were not healthy enough, so he left them. Weak things had no value.

The third time they meet, Minato is not allowed to talk but he still manages to save Daichi's life. The redhead is in the forest again, even when he knows he shouldn't- Not this far, not this deep, and not in the latha na samna; believing to be hunting but being hunted in turn. The white stallion with the opal black eyes is not of this world, but the redhead has already been ensnared and can't tell he is walking to his death.

The only reason Minato knows this is that he is still too young to join in the rituals of the Tuatha Dé or partake in the insane frenzies and blood rituals. He can only observe from a safe distance as the intoxicated masses tear the chosen cattle to shreds with their bare hands- As the Arashi, he is forbidden from ending an unwilling life, but his duty still is to observe and ensure all the rituals are done properly.

The unborn God stirs uneasily in his chest and the blond quietly leaves, a burgundy shadow among the ritual bonfires and maddened masses, in pursuit of a young man that is arrogant enough to walk during all hollow's eve without a lantern. And it's all because of beauty he doesn't want to posses.

'Come here, sweetheart.' Daichi coos at the stallion, holding out a hand with the bright red apple, not seeing it's rotten and that the poisonous worms crawl out and inside of it. The horse doesn't get away from him so he holds his assegai up high, ready to plunge it into the dark caverns of the lungs, ribs and veins. All for the heart, as everyone knows that the only thing one cannot live without is heart, because that's how the strange forest was charmed. He tosses the apple, along with worms, right under the snow white hooves and touched the pure mane. 'Come here, nokken.'

But when he drills the assegai into the beautiful side and nothing happens, the mane so white doesn't turn blue and black eyes doesn't look back at yellow, he know he lost the battle and that now his hand is numb as the foggy mist covers him in the heavy set, and the stallion stands still, unmoving, dead. He sees the glimpse of the moon and wonders if there is a way to pierce the shadow, but if there is, he is too late for that. He gives in, oblivious to beauty.

The nokken stops when the prey is almost fully submerged, feeling the resistance in the air. Pupilless yellow eyes turn and zero on the lithe form holding onto the prey's hand, just outside the shore of the lake. Creature's such as it cannot see in the range of colors human does, yet he knows who the child dressed in the forbidden color is. If it were blind, it would still know. The boy is the path finder, the storm maker. He is a human abomination, a chrysalis for a restlessly sleeping God, lacking a soul of his own yet existing through the consumption of the last one. The boy is the Arashi, and like all the ones before him, he is the last one. But only until a new one is made.

It knows well enough that to harm the boy is forbidden, than to live is to look away and clear the path, but it is Hollow's eve, and the human is his prize. He caught him fairly, fought for him with the other released and strengthened spirits. The Arashi is not allowed to take an unwilling life, and the famished creature intends to fight for his prey. He pulls harder, feeling the brittle bones of the human unhinge at some point on the joints above his arm- The Arashi loses balance and topples into the water, along with the prey, not a sound escaping the pale lips. He is still clutching the human's hand, but if he can drag him deep enough, the boy will have to let go, would let go when it saw how futile it was.

In the water, The Arashi is invisible, and the only he can tell he is still there is that he can still tell of the added weight on the prey's body. Still, the nokken doesn't let go- Powerful muscles tense under the grown sea grass and he shots down to the bottom of the lake, thinking to ensnare the prey on the long barbs of green growing and knowing there s no way he could be pulled out- It lets an inhuman howl at the scalding feeling when the unworked iron presses against the seal-like coldness of his skin, and immediately releases the prey, a confused sound escaping it's mouth. There is no clue, no movement, and the prey stays still-no longer moving or even breathing, and it thinks it must be a tick- the pain comes back, harder than before. He feels the iron viciously rubbed against the unprotected skin of his back, having cut through the protective layer of sea plants- not the weak amalgam of metals human use as weapons but actual iron, brought and worked from the earth itself. The skin bubbles and foams, and the creature trashes agonially while the Arashi grabs his human by the arm that still hasn't been hurt and drags him to the surface. By the time they get out of the lake, Daichi isn't breathing. Has stopped quite a while before he attacked the Nook, but it's not late enough yet, he feels it in his chest- It's all hollows eve, and the spirits stay tonight, rather than stray beyond.

Arashi lays the human on his back and sits on his chest, taking the sharpened dagger from his waist, slicing across his palm and bringing it to his mouth-His blood is human still, but lacks any sort of metallic taste or smell. If anything, it's closer to the sap of mugoreens. He smells it, feeling a vague stir of want in his stomach and chest, but blood is forbidden to him. Instead he opens his mouth and lets something fall into the wound, his other hand leaving the dagger in favor to open Daichi's mouth and press his palm against it, blood and the shard flowing down heavily.

Yellow eye stares at him blindly, stark naked through the half opened eyelids as the other one looks fogged and dead. Sickly violet skin shows the signs of the soul already trying to move out to the eternal journey on another worlds and soaked red hair plaster to the forehead and cheeks. For a long time only the dripping of the blood can be heard along with the forest and sprits around them, whispering, curious. And then, like in the machine that lied forgotten for too long, something cringes and the chest roses up and down.

For once. The air that escapes the bloodied mouth seems to act like a slaved fairy that finally got out free. Then the boy slowly opens both his eyes and rises to the sitting position. His skin is still sickly violet, now turning a bit more grey and a bit more pale as the blood slowly flows down from the face. The one healthy eye looks at the blond still fogged, dim and almost transparent as it blends with the white – the color now dingy and uncertain. The red syrup that was unswallowed, slowly flows down his chin and onto his chest, tainting his (best) clothes made from the hardest skins.

He looks at the blond and the most living thing in his whole being seems to be – ironically – in his artificial gold tainted eye.

'God.' he mutters and softly curls his stiffened now, fingers on the delicate clothes the blond wears. And he is trapped, trapped already in this body, on this world, belonging to him and him alone. He doesn't want to chase princes anymore nor he wants to collect the best things on the world. Weapons and father don't matter anymore. All he sees is the beautiful crescent aura, the afterimage of what he saw as the last in the moment of death and the beautiful, beautiful eyes of the man (man?).

He thirsts only for him now.

'Please.' he mutters. He doesn't know how to talk, doesn't know what words to use. But all his being exists only for one purpose and that's all that matters. 'Lead.'

Minato smiles, pale arms rising from beneath the soaked material of the red hood and wrapping around the man's powerful neck. It's warmer than expected, much livelier than their cold appearance would make one thing, despite the fact the water of the lake was much colder. Not yet, He says without moving his lips. It will still be years before he is allowed to talk again, not that he really needs it any longer. His forehead presses against Daichi's, and when his chest pressed against the others, the skin beneath the boy's breast shifts and twists as if something beneath fought to get out. _Forget me and return to you father._

The redhead looks at him, his gaze uncertain and lost, but then he nods, plainly and gets up. Now his only purpose is to get back to his home, to father and wait, wait for something, but what, he doesn't know, he doesn't remember. He only knows he has to wait. So he moves, through the darkest of the nights, not seeing the animals, plants and spirits as he was left alone by each one of them. He was touched by the sacred hand of Arashi; no harm can be done upon him before his seal can break.

When he gets back home, no profession interests him anymore. He stops visiting their only horse and doesn't pick up fights with people on the streets. Sure, he does everything father tells him to do, including reading books and cleaning the cutlery – but he doesn't understand neither and doesn't remember any of that. In the free time, he sits in the darkened corner, basking in the shadow, his mouth slightly agape, his form loose. His father scolds him and beats him for that every time he sees him, scared by what became of him, scared of that he might have been charmed and taken away – as a proof he wants Daichi to snap out of the scary state.

But Daichi doesn't and the man doesn't acknowledge what he already knows. When the old man dies of the old state, Daichi doesn't get back home to hold his old hand nor he thanks him for what he did for him. He also doesn't dig him grave and doesn't tell people about his death. When visitors come, the rotten body is already dried, laying in the bed as it's left, with the son nowhere to be found. Soon after that, the horse also dies, unfed and trapped in the stable. The redhead sees the bones whispering to him from time to time, full of despair and reproach. But he only grabs a stick and drills a small hole in the earth until it breaks, hidden in the shadow, violet, pale, unbreathing. And he waits.

When it's time, the Arashi knows, because he awakens. It takes on a breath and finds the air sweet. Like so many before, he calls upon the souls to collect them, all but one, who still has a function. 'Do you want to wear the body of an animal and roam through the forest protect by its skin?' It's time, it says. It tells it in dreams to the one with hair like crushed roses. "Do you want to look through it's eyes, speak through its mouth? Do you want to worship the moon and be reborn through it?'

In the dark, the forest is full of sounds and whispers, the noise of animals in heat and scurrying little mice. Sometimes the sounds of children being left so they can find their way back if the forest allows it, but it seldom does. Willing sacrifices of unwilling souls, all to keep this once arid desert in the lush and rich country it is today through deals and payments of blood.

'I want to serve you.' mutters Daichi to himself, answering, but he doesn't know to whom and why. He only knows that his still blood that already went dry in his veins wants to move, leaving him excited, less lethargic. He walks around more than usual, creeping into the sun, back and forth between the shadow. Something has changed, but he doesn't know why. The life around him knows, but he doesn't belong to them anymore, so they don't tell, ignorant, foolish. 'I want to serve you.' he mutters through the dry lips that upon the years turned black and dirty from trying to eat, the habit that stayed with him, though he had no idea why. Hunger was lost with his life the day he stopped thinking. His stomach is full of leaves, stones and mud, all tasting the same. 'I want to serve you.'

And so he does. He has no idea what kind of life he tears, but he hears their screams all the same – the plants cry are the quietest ones as the juices of their branches fall upon his fingers, animal's howl is the strongest one, the blood dark and vivid. Only humans have the more screeching scream but he doesn't mind – he tears up the pair he meets on the way, he tears up the apple tree and kills a dog protecting it and then takes a screaming baby by a leg. His body is red, red as his hair, red, green, blue. He doesn't understand that and he doesn't wish for it, but he does that because his thirst only grows when he finally gets his answers. His gift is loud but it doesn't matter.

On the way he grabs what seems to be – nice – and brings it also. The pair of dry flowers, a necklace with artificial ruby, a dusty piece of wood hanging down from the door and a couple of leaves with white and black stones. It's a gift, something to give, something he wants to sacrifice. He gets it and gets into the black forest, careful to not drop the necklace, the leaves, the screaming baby. The owl hoots at his way and the spirits awaken only to look at him, going in, moving, a foot after foot, forward. He doesn't know where to search and how to do that, but when he finds him it comes out he knew where and how all along.

'God.' he says, his voice chords dry and unused, break in his throat one by one. He doesn't know the being yet he does, remembering and not having anyone in mind at all. His thirst grows but so does his worship, so he just let go of his gifts and bends down in a position he thoughts is one giving a honor. He remembers it from the past, from somewhen, somehow.

And nobody knows what's happens after that anymore.


End file.
